


The Color of You

by MissMonsters2



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, F/F, Romance, Smut, fem!reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22626844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonsters2/pseuds/MissMonsters2
Summary: [From Tumblr]PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader/OFCSummary: It was another mission Natasha was assigned to. Nothing she hasn’t done before. Same mission, different people. Sent undercover to investigate William Cain, suspect to funding terrorism and smuggling weaponry. Under the disguise of Natanya Rovinski, Natasha is ready for another routine mission. Until she met you, William’s fiancé.Warnings: There are dark elements to this series. Also, smut later on.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader, natasha Romanoff/reader, natasha romanoff/you
Comments: 9
Kudos: 154
Collections: Natasha Romanoff Reader Inserts





	1. Part I

It was a brisk morning. It had snowed the night before in Washington, DC, blanketing the ground until everything was covered white. It was quiet. The air was crisp, threatening to bite at the apples of Natasha’s cheeks. 

She briefly thought about how she should be more used to the cold. 

After all, she lived in Russia for quite a long time. 

Perhaps moving to New York had made her softer. 

Not that she thought it was a bad thing, Natasha quietly smiled to herself.

_“Are you even listening to me?”_

Natasha hummed on the phone.

“Yes, Clint,” Natasha said, her tone teasing him. “You worry too much.”

_“Of course I worry, you’re being sent to a psychopath for recon.”_

“And?” Natasha drawled as she tried to straighten out her jacket. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

 _“I know,”_ Clint sighed. _“I just…this guy’s profile screams there’s something wrong with him.”_

“Of course it does, he’s being suspected of funding terrorism and smuggling weaponry.”

She could hear Clint mocking what she said quietly, his tone going a pitch higher to resemble her, and she couldn’t help but grin. 

_“Alright, just…get the info we need and come back home safe so we can all move in on this guy.”_

“Copy that,” Natasha said, and Clint was rolling his eyes at her mock-serious tone.

She hung up the phone, sliding it into her coat pocket as she walked to the house they’ve set up for her.

Her undercover this time was a single wealthy investor who had come from old money, inheriting everything her fake parents passed onto her before they kicked the bucket. 

She was supposed to be poised but eccentric. Taking in hobbies ranging from archery, martial arts, all the way to collecting coins. 

The profile they set up for her managed to score her an invite tonight to William’s engagement party. No one quite knows what his new fiancé looks like as he keeps her under tight wraps, paranoid that someone would get her while he was building his political career. 

Apparently, it had happened to him before with a past flame.

But, they had a profile on women he’s dated in the past. They were typically flashy women who were quite content on being a trophy wife.

Natasha expected his fiancé to be the same as it was clear Willaim had a type. 

It was odd to Natasha that William was having such a large engagement party, clearly meant now to reveal his partner, but she suspects that it’s part of his political campaign.

Nothing brings a crowd in like seeing a family type man. 

It was a clear ploy trying to lure in sponsors as well. 

But Natasha knows.

Men like William are never any different. 

And there’s always a method to getting what she wants from men like William.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The venue that William had rented was grand. A little too flashy and gaudy for her taste, she decides. Nothing like the classy events Tony puts together. 

She’s come in a light strapless beige dress, tight to her skin before flowing loosely at it lowers, a matching shining sash that goes across her body.

It’s elegant, innocent, draws attention with her fiery red hair. 

She’s sipping on champagne before she enters a group of other wealthy goers. She knows all the participants here, studying it meticulously at her home before she came. 

She stood currently with Tiffany and Brad, almost like the heads of the group. Then there was Lucy and Derek, and finally newcomers Lilian and Brody. 

They were new money, trying to make it into the group, having to suck up to people like Tiffany and Brad. 

Because old money is always better than new. 

“Oh yes, I believe I’ve heard of your family. I’m quite sorry to hear about your loss, by the way,” Tiffany says, tilting her head as sympathetically as she could with a purse of her lips. 

Natasha simply nodded. These type of people were so easy, Natasha thought. A couple compliments to flatter their egos and they were open to gossiping with her.

“This is quite the venue for an engagement party,” she comments.

Tiffany laughs, “That’s William, expect nothing less. He simply adores hosting parties.”

Natasha put on her best smile. “Have you met his fiancé?” 

Tiffany shook her head as she sipped from her glass.

“Oh, no,” she says. “But, I hear he fell in love with her quite quickly when asking for her hand in marriage. He’s saving her family from bankruptcy as well.”

Natasha hummed. 

Was it love? Or was it an arranged marriage?

Whatever it was, it was benefitting both parties clearly. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“You don’t belong here.”

The voice made Natasha turn her head as she lowered her champagne glass slightly. She was somewhat alarmed, but when she came into contact with a gentleman with warm brown eyes and a smile, she relaxed.

“Oh?” She hummed, “And why do you say that?”

The gentleman jokingly eyed her before looking around, and then looked back at her.

“Well, since you’re standing here alone, minding your business, and sipping your champagne, clearly you’re a level up on these rich, conceited shitheads.”

Natasha couldn’t help the light laughter that left her mouth.

“And what would that make you?”

The gentleman took a step back, exaggeratingly bowing with his arm as he introduced himself.

“David King, rich shithead, but not conceited, mind you.”

Another laughter left Natasha’s lips as she shook his head.

“Just Natanya Rovinski.”

“Alright, just Natanya Rovinski, are you a friend of William’s?”

Natasha shook her head, “No, I actually haven’t met him before.”

David nodded his head with understanding. 

“Ah,” he said. “Then you’re his potential investor.”

Natasha merely quirked her lip in response.

“Do you know William?” She asked in return, watching in amusement as David sighed.

“Unfortunately, we are family friends that go way back. I’m not going to lie, this is my fourth drink, and I’m willing to admit now I tried to break my leg earlier to leave.”

“Not a fan of William?” Natasha asked, intrigued. 

David rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how to explain to you that among all these rich, conceited shitheads, he steals my last name as the king among them.”

It was interesting, she thought, to meet someone like David, who so openly did not like William Cain.

Perhaps his position as a family friend gave him that privilege. 

“Oh shit,” David muttered quietly so that only Natasha could hear him. “Here comes the man of the hour.”

Natasha looks over to see a man in his mid-thirties in a polishing white suit and crooked grin make his way over.

“David!” He called, slapping the man on his shoulder. “Great to see you. How are your parents?”

David is smiling, but to Natasha, it only looks like he’s resisting a grimace.

“They’re doing great. How’s your mother?” He asks, mostly out of politeness.

William is still grinning. “She’s doing grand. Complaining about how old she’s getting, but still grand.”

David just lets out a dry laughter. 

“Well…I think my father wanted me to get him some…olives…so I’ll catch you later.” David turns to Natasha looking apologetic. “It was nice to meet you, Natanya.”

Natasha nods while David scurries off, leaving the two of them alone. William regards her as she puts on her best alluring expression, blinking her lashes slowly.

“Miss Natanya Rovinski, isn’t it?” William says as he takes her hand to greet her. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I heard about your parents’ tragic accident. You have my condolences.” 

“Thank you,” Natasha says, her voice husky.

“If you don’t have anyone helping you with the estate and wills, I’m happy to introduce you to my lawyer. She was wonderful when my father passed.” William offers her, and she’s sure it’s to butter her up.

“I will keep that in mind,” she merely says. 

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve invited you, despite the fact we don’t know each other.”

Natasha is surprised by his direct approach, but nods.

William looks around the party, taking the guests who are mingling.

“It’s a new age, Miss Natanya. The world continues to change as we know it. I believe that we, being the next generation from our parents, should take our place in shaping it. I hope to gain your support in the future.”

It was bold, Natasha thinks. 

She had expected William to shower her with his compliments and gifts to earn her favor, but she was not completely surprised.

She pulls her lips into a smile.

“I look forward to future discussions with you,” she says, promising nothing for now. 

William smiles and Natasha quickly changes the conversation, looking around as she did.

“So, where is this finacé of yours?”

William playfully rolled his eyes.

“She’s in the washroom…you know how women can be.”

She fights the urge to roll her eyes because what dumbass would say that to a woman standing in front of him, but she soon notices another woman approaching them.

“Ah–there she is.”

You were approaching with a demure smile, smoothing out your dress before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You stood next to William, hand out-stretched to Natasha.

And then you spoke.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was warm.

Your hand was warm and soft.

And you were beautiful. Not in a flashy, gaudy way. You were a quiet elegance. Like a wallflower.

You were, well, _lovely_.

Your voice was soft when you introduced yourself. 

“I’m Natanya Rovinski,” Natasha says as she lets go of your hand.

You smiled lightly, “William tells me you have inherited everything your parents left behind. It must be a lot of stress.”

You didn’t apologize for her loss.

Natasha liked that.

“Yes,” she nodded. “It will definitely be new for me to take over my family’s business, but it’s something I’ve been preparing for my whole life.”

“What about you?” Natasha directed back. She needed more intel on you.

“What does William’s mysterious fiancé do?”

You smiled, your eyes wandering to the wall, which made Natasha look as well to the artwork on it.

“I’m an artist, just starting off…”

“And yet, your artwork is already framed in this venue,” Natasha compliments. 

A light blush appears on your cheek, and the entire thing is so bashful that it’s throwing Natasha off.

You didn’t say anything else, but your smile showed how you appreciated her words. Natasha was still forming her opinion on you. You were much too quiet in your thoughts and accomplishments, but it was those qualities that made Natasha believe you were different than the type of girls William dated on his profile. She quietly pondered what on earth could’ve possibly brought the two of you together.

Was it an arranged marriage?

The way William had his arm around you so intimately with you leaning in made her think otherwise. 

The night went on as good as it could. Natasha had gotten tidbits here and there about William, mostly from David. They exchanged cards so they could stay in touch. She had a feeling she would see him around more often. 

Natasha had spent the other part of the night looking at you. As you stood next William, greeting guest to guest in your long-sleeved navy blue dress that showed no skin, other than the slit that went up to your thigh, there was a twinkle in your eye.

And Natasha felt it.

You were an essential piece to this mission.


	2. Part II

Natasha was in the middle of her living room, looking over William’s profile again.

She spread out the photos provided to her before leaning back with her fingers holding her chin.

Natasha was still working on her plan. 

Maria had helped her set up dedicated funds to her mission to use as his investor, but she needed more than that.

She needed more than just being a sponsor to him.

She needed to get into his inner circle. 

Idly tapping her chin, Natasha’s thoughts wandered to you from the other night. The sight of you tucking your hair behind your ear and demure smile wouldn’t leave her mind.

How did someone like you end up with someone like William?

The sound of her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts. 

**Clint:** _How’s it going over there?_

It was Clint texting her to check in on her. Again.

 **Nat:** _It’s fine. Stop texting me unless you’re dying._

 **Clint** : _…Rude…_

Natasha rolled her eyes with a light smile before looking at the clock. Sighing, she stood up to get prepared for tonight’s events.

William was hosting another event, but this time as part of his political campaign. He was hosting it in his home, so it was a big opportunity for Natasha to look around. 

Her goal of the night was still to obviously information gather but to also take a look around in his home, and secure a personal invite over where there would be more one-on-one time. 

It would also give her an opportunity to get to know you better as well. That night when she caught your eye from across the room, it was like an electrical bolt hitting her that you were more than just a trophy wife to William. 

And when Natasha got that feeling, she was certainly always right. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“You know, this wouldn’t be so bad if you just imagine that you’re on fire and the building is collapsing.”

Natasha snorted as David took a sip from his drink.

“Tell us how you really feel,” she replied with a smirk.

Though she couldn’t blame him. God, she was bored out of her mind. The amount of old white men she had spoken to already this evening was already numbing her mind. 

Natasha had arrived at an appropriate time, neither early nor too late. William had approached her within minutes of her arriving, driving her into a conversation about his campaign, and her thoughts. She had merely nodded her head at the time about his interesting policies, occasionally saying something that would suggest to him that she agreed or shared the same ideology. 

When more guests started to pour in, William regarded her with his own smile, asking if she would be free sometime in the next couple of days to have lunch with him.

It was secured and almost entirely too easy.

Just as the right amount of guests came to keep William busy, she disappeared off to snoop around.

She checked the place from head to toe, every nook and cranny.

But she didn’t find anything suspicious, not even a book out of place. Everything was where it was meant to be. 

And that was off to Natasha. It was like everything was staged to show what William wanted people to see, but Natasha saw that whatever William was hiding, she wouldn’t find it here. 

“So,” David said, breaking Natasha out of her thoughts. “What did you think of William’s fiancé?”

“Have you met her?” Natasha asked in return, watching as David nodded once. 

“Yes, I kind of want to ask her to blink twice if she’s being held against her will because there’s no way William managed to woo a girl like that.”

Natasha chuckled throatily, trying to contain the full burst of laughter that truly wanted to come out. She was coming to appreciate her time spent with David, a man who clearly shared many similar thoughts to her and had no problem saying them out loud. 

“This party is as riveting as watching paint dry, and I think I’ve stayed my obligatory time, I’m going to head out? Are you staying?” David asked as he put his drink down against the bar, dusting his hands off.

“Just a little longer,” Natasha answered. It didn’t feel like she had gotten enough intel on anything other than whatever William was hiding was most likely off base. Not to even mention she hadn’t seen you tonight either. 

“Alright,” David said, taking a step forward before turning to her. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, come to my estate and have lunch with me.”

Natasha raised her brow at David but nodded, bidding him goodbye as he left. For another 45 minutes, she made an effort to talk to more people at the party, easily being able to identify who would be sponsoring and donating to William’s campaign. There were a couple of men and women she made a mental note to look into more as they were clearly radicals. 

After Natasha felt like she had done enough for the night, she made a move to leave. As she passed the balcony though, she caught a similar silhouette. She opened the door quietly, pushing through the thick red curtain to find you standing out there alone against the railing. You were wearing another long-sleeved dress that revealed nothing but your curves.

Natasha closed the door softly, content that it shut out the unintelligible noises from inside. 

“Are you not enjoying the party?”

You whipped around, body tensed with a sharp turn of your head at Natasha’s presence. 

“I–”

You coughed lightly, a blush dusting your cheeks as you admitted slowly, “I don’t fit in well with this type of crowd.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought.

From what Natasha knew, you were from an affluential family, although you did just make it out of bankruptcy. 

This was supposed to be your crowd. 

“That’s alright. You’re all the better for not fitting in.” Natasha walked up to the ledge next to you, resting her elbow up before propping her chin on it. There was a slight breeze that brushed against Natasha’s fingers. 

She looked over subtly to you, her eyes drawing down to your neatly trimmed nails, spotting a small line of paint just on the side of your ring finger. Natasha ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth at the sight.

You had your head tilted downwards and slightly to the side, it gave a great view of your slender neck and defined collarbone as you had a soft smile to what Natasha had said.

It was the small things like this that caused the confusion in Natasha. 

You had chosen a man like William Cain to be your husband, and for some reason, Natasha couldn’t ignore that. 

But Natasha could feel that a direct approach with you would cause you to close yourself off. She needed to be careful. 

“And what about you, Miss Rovinski? Are you someone who fits in?” You asked quietly in return.

It was quiet for a moment, and Natasha licked her bottom lip slowly.

“I guess you can say I fit in anywhere but belong nowhere,” Natasha admitted quietly, and when she went to see your expression, it was as if you were not surprised by the answer. 

Perhaps seeing that quality in Natasha.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” Natasha asked, and it seemed the question surprised you, but you nodded, albeit a little hesitantly.

“A few days ago I went to a local café in the morning, and I had overheard a conversation between two men who couldn’t understand how society, women, in particular, were so invested in art and fashion. There was too much emphasis on art, and it was overrated.”

Natasha caught your nervousness at the statement and quirked her lips.

“I didn’t agree with the sentiment as they commented on how the café looked bare and too plain–a problem only art could solve, isn’t that right?”

You hadn’t quite reacted to Natasha’s story, unsure where she was really going with this.

“I went to an artist’s gallery opening a couple months ago, and it featured a painting of a local village she had experienced in her travels. It was filled with such vibrant colors, sharp and soft. No words had accompanied the painting, yet people crowded around it, overwhelmed with emotion. Some people cried, some laughed loudly, and some were echoed by the image–are you understanding me?”

You nodded slowly.

“So, I’ve decided that sometimes art is the only thing that can draw out what people may truly be feeling, leaves a mark that words cannot reach,” Natasha said as she looked up at the starry sky. 

Natasha turned back and gave you a quiet, warm smile. “That’s why I envy artists sometimes for being able to reach people in a different light.”

The hesitance and stiffness in you melted away with Natasha’s words, a rare genuine smile gracing your lips for her. 

Natasha pulled back her arms, looking towards the door.

This was enough for tonight. 

Natasha was leaving before your voice stopped her.

“Thank you…your words have reached me…and they make me incredibly happy.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha stood in front of two large mahogany doors before they opened to reveal Daniel standing there.

“Natanya, you made it! Did you find it okay?” He greeted her, pulling her into a slight hug and kisses on either side of her cheeks. 

“Yes, my driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.” It seemed like all luxurious private drivers knew where the big players were. 

“Come on in, I’ve got someone preparing us tea and lunch. Are you allergic to anything or any preferences?” David asked as he ushered her in. It was quite a walk to his patio outside. A full garden with a pond and fountain that was well maintained was the view. 

“No, anything will be fine,” Natasha said as she took her seat, placing her small purse onto the table. 

David sat across from her, crossing his legs so that his ankle rested against his thigh, and temple resting against his knuckles.

“Someone else will be coming too,” David said with a casual smile. “My boyfriend.”

Natasha raised her brow. That had explained some things. 

“Why tell me that? What if I was extremely homophobic?” Natasha asked, only to see what David would say.

David let out a genuine laughter.

“Please,” he said after his laugh. “We flock together like birds. I’ve seen you eyeing various women throughout the parties–and men, although it looked like you were eyeing them begrudgingly.”

Natasha wasn’t sure if David had a better eye than she thought or if his gaydar was just that good, either way, she did feel a little exposed.

“What’s your boyfriend like?” Natasha asked, changing the topic from her.

David smiled softly, “Liam’s a photographer. He doesn’t come from money which I like. He’ll call me out on my shit if he thinks I’m being a dickhead. You should see him when I try to do extravagant things.”

David was chuckling by the end of it, the softness bringing a small smile to Natasha’s lips.

“Do your parents know?” Natasha asked.

“Yep,” David sighs. “They think it’s just a phase, but Liam is the one for me, I’m pretty sure. Since I’m the only child, my parents haven’t cut me off yet because they want me to take over the business. Once they see how serious I am, I have no idea how they’ll react. I’m fully prepared to be cut off, but Liam’s been teaching me about putting money away in case that happens.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile at how endearing this all sounded, a rich man with learning how to save and budget from his financially average boyfriend.

The rest of the afternoon, they had made small idle chat until Liam arrived. He was a pretty athletically fit man, shorter than David by a couple inches. He had a boyish charm to him that made Natasha see why David was so enamored.

“I saw William today leaving from my photoshoot,” Liam commented as he finished up his meal. 

“Oh?” David commented, disinterestedly. 

“Yeah,” Liam continued. “He was standing outside a café with someone I haven’t recognized from any of the parties or his campaign. He seemed pretty angry with whoever he was talking to since he was shouting and flailing his arms.”

That piqued Natasha’s attention. 

“Oh, wow,” Natasha commented. “What café was it?”

“The one on 18th. There’s a whole bunch of cafés down that street.”

Natasha hummed, storing that information for later. 

The rest of the lunch went smooth, and eventually, David took them inside to his living area. 

Natasha looked at the photos around the room, a lot of it being childhood photos of David. She was intrigued to see so many pictures of him and another boy. It wasn’t until she found a high school photo of David and the man next to him a younger version of William. 

“Wow, you guys really were family friends,” Natasha commented as she took the photo from the ledge to look at it closer.

David hummed. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We were actually pretty close back in high school and a little through university.”

“What changed?” Natasha asked because it was clear now that David hated the other man.

David leaned his head on his fist against the chair as Liam sat next to him. “He was always arrogant, don’t get me wrong. But you could tell he cared about things, I guess. I think it all started to change after his dad died midway the first year of university.”

“Oh, it was a car accident, right?” Natasha inquired. That was what was on his file.

David pursed his lip, looking around his home as if to see if anyone else was there. 

“That’s what his family wanted officially published. But the truth is, we don’t really know for sure.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought. Her file should’ve had that. Why was his father’s death so tight-lipped?

She would have to do more digging on that because whatever it was, it was clearly a changing point for William. 

The subject dropped, and they chatted for about another hour before Natasha decided that it was time to go.

“Oh!” David exclaimed before she was leaving. “Before you go, my parents are hosting their 40th anniversary next weekend. Here’s your invitation. I know you’re going to see William and his fiancé…please give this to them.”

“I swear you rich people have a party every week,” Liam mumbled.

Natasha took the invitations, raising her brow at David. Clearly, the man just didn’t want to see William. He smiled widely at her trying to look innocent, and Natasha could only roll her eyes. 

David gave her a parting hug while Liam shook her hand.

This afternoon turned out to be more fulfilling than she thought it was going to be.

She had some useful information to work with. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

 **Maria:** _Sorry, there’s nothing on his father’s death other than it being a car accident. We’ve even got all the records pulled for the coroner’s report and the police records. All points to a car accident. I sent you the photos too._

Natasha sighed frustratedly as she threw her phone next to her on the couch. 

_Fuck_ , she thought. How could that be? It was evident that within the inner circle, that wasn’t how the man died. 

Why could they pull nothing? 

She supposed she wouldn’t find out unless she got into the inner circle. 

On the bright side, Natasha managed to find who William was talking to at the café by hacking into the street cameras to find the photos of them. 

It was a rather rugged-looking man, definitely not someone who belongs in the affluent circle. She had sent the photos off to see what they could come up with when she got back from lunch that day. 

Her phone dinged again, this time with information sent to her.

The man’s name was Emilio Vartez. Nothing out of the usual other than petty crimes, but the fact that William was associating himself with someone like that was already telling. 

She needed to see if she could find this Emilio Vartez.

Her phone dinged again, but this time to remind her that she needed to stop by The Cain estates. She had scheduled her meeting with William today, and it would be a chance to drop off David’s invitations as well. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m so sorry, Miss Rovinski. Mr. Cain had a sudden work emergency that just came up. He had to leave right away. I’m not too sure when he’ll be back, but he will be reaching back out to you to reschedule.”

William’s assistant was near bowing at Natasha who had simply raised her hand to show it was a no big deal. 

“That’s fine,” Natasha told the assistant to stop her from apologizing. “Actually is the soon-to-be Mrs. Cain here? I need to drop off an invitation.”

The assistant actually looked hesitant to tell Natasha where you were, but it was like she reminded herself that you were now public.

“Oh, yes,” the assistant coughed after a moment. “She’s in her art studio. It’s on the second level, the farthest room in the back. I’m sorry, I would walk you, but I really have to meet up with one of the campaign managers right now.”

Natasha shook her head, “That’s fine, really. I’m sure I will find her. If not, I’ll play Marco-Polo with her.” 

The assistant let out a burst of loud laughter that made Natasha internally jump. 

The assistant laughed the entire way out, and Natasha stood there blinking until she was gone.

After that, Natasha followed the assistant’s directions. She would’ve taken longer to snoop around, but since she already knew she wouldn’t find anything, she went straight to her destination. 

Natasha could see you through the clear window on the door. The studio was large in size, blank canvases and easels lined up on one side. You had your back turned to Natasha in a large men’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up in front of a canvas, various paint tubes everywhere. 

Natasha entered the room quietly, just observing you. You head was tilted with your thumb in the middle of the canvas, your paintbrush delicately held between your lips.

“What are you drawing?” 

You jumped as you turned around, paintbrush falling from your mouth. The brush rolled until it hit Natasha’s foot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Natasha said as she picked up the brush to hand it to you. 

You had your hair in a bun, strands have fallen out. Demurely, you brushed a strand behind your ear as you regarded Natasha. 

“I’m here to give you an invitation to the King’s party next week.”

“I suppose David didn’t want to see William?” You asked with a little mirth in your tone that made Natasha quirk her lips. 

“You know about David’s…feelings?”

“He doesn’t exactly keep it a secret,” you say, delicately opening the envelope. 

“It doesn’t bother you that he feels that way about your husband?”

You merely smiled lopsidedly. 

“My fiancé,” you corrected subtly, “is a politician.”

That’s all you said to explain, but Natasha understood the unsaid words. She eyed your canvas again and looked at your prep work. 

“Watercolor?”

To her surprise, a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“It’s my favorite,” you quietly admitted. 

“Why?” Natasha pried.

You looked at your easel, the faint pencil sketches on your canvas.

“I like that it’s transparent,” you said so faintly that Natasha almost didn’t catch it.

Suddenly, you turned back to face Natasha, eyeing her.

“Do you like the color black?” You asked as you caught onto her black cashmere turtleneck. 

“I do,” Natasha admitted.

“Would you like to hear something interesting about it?” You were looking at Natasha so calmly, it was bringing something out in her.

“Yes.”

“People think that the color black only symbolizes unhappiness, grief, and misery, but studies show that people who are powerful wear the color black–lawyers, judges, Steve Jobs.”

Natasha laughed a little at the last one. 

“Want to hear more?” You said, smiling as Natasha nodded.

“They say people who like the color black are mysterious and like to keep a certain boundary between them and the outside world.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Do you think that of me?”

“I believe only time will let me know.”

You stood up, walking by Natasha before she reached out and grabbed your wrist softly. The action seemed to surprise you as your arm pressed against the sleeve of her shirt.

“Do you like the color green?” Natasha asked as you had shades of green painted across your arm.

“At the moment, yes,” you replied.

“Would you like to know something interesting about it?” Natasha asked, repeating you. You smiled in response.

“Doctors use the color green to help relieve the fatigue in their eyes from the blood during operations, it helps them focus on examining wounds in better detail.”

You tilted your head at the fact, intrigued.

“Want to hear more?” Natasha asked, smiling herself when you nodded.

“They say kind, loyal, and compassionate people pick green as their favorite color.”

You swallowed at the words, overwhelmed by it, but Natasha could tell you were grateful nonetheless. When she released your wrist, your eyes were drawn to the streak of green smudged on her sweater.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, let me get that fo–”

“It’s alright,” Natasha interrupted you, looking at the splash of color on her sleeve. “I think your green goes well against my black.”

When she looked up, you swallowed deeply at her emerald eyes that just peered into you. Natasha was already walking towards the door before she looked back at you, bidding you goodbye for now with a definitive voice.

“I’ll see you soon.”

When Natasha walked out the front door, she clenched her jaw. 

It was only a second, but it made all the difference to Natasha. 

You had jumped before she spoke. 

You weren’t surprised–or scared. 

You expected her to be there. 


	3. Part III

“Hm.”

Natasha watched from the roof of a building, peering down below at Emilio back up a large truck. The night hid her from sight, but Emilio didn’t seem like someone who was that concerned about his surroundings.

Whoever William is working with was clearly an amateur. 

She watched as Emilio got out of the driver seat and went to the back, opening the latch before pushing up the back door. 

Natasha walked around, trying to get a view of what was inside the truck.

There was a bunch of craters, so not much for her to work with. Luckily, Emilio was dumb enough to open one of the crates in the wide-open.

Natasha had expected to see weapons or crates just full of cash, but to her surprise, she didn’t see any of that. Instead, there were crates full of tiny microchips. 

The confusion settled over Natasha as she furrowed her brows. Nonetheless, she still took pictures of it. 

She wished that she could just put William away already, but this wasn’t enough proof of anything, even with him clearly being associated with a small-time criminal like Emilio.

It’s not a crime to be seen talking and shouting to someone.

She had gotten access to all his bank statements, and there were clear signs of him participating in money laundering, but that wasn’t going to be enough.

Natasha needed more. She needed to find out what criminal activities he was exactly doing. Where was he getting this money and where was he sending it?

It was enough for tonight, though. Natasha got the pictures and the location she needed.

She needed to go back home and prep for tomorrow. 

It was going to be her one-on-one luncheon with William. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

William was a madman.

It wasn’t anything that really surprised Natasha, not after all the thing she’s seen. 

Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t help but be deeply affected.

Was it because of you?

Natasha could only obsessively think about how you were with this insane man. 

Did you know?

“Can’t you see it, Natanya?” William says to Natasha. The two of them are walking down the hall of his estate. They’re passing through the hall where there are portraits of his ancestors.

It dated so far back, it was appropriate his family was known for old money.

“Every generation is supposed to be better than the next,” William tells Natasha as he comes to a stop, looking at his father. 

There was a look in his eye, and Natasha wondered if he truly admired and respected this father.

Was that why he changed after his father’s death?

“My family has always been about protecting legacy,” William says, his hands behind his back as he stares at the portrait just a moment longer.

“People who make something of this world, leave a mark, have something to pass down to _everyone_ –that’s legacy. It certainly ruffled a few feathers.”

“Why is that?” Natasha asked softly.

“Because,” William turns to look at her, “only the rich or the special can create a true legacy.”

Natasha wants to argue because there are many people she knows that make a difference every day, and they’re not rich.

And to her–they’re special.

But she simply smiles as if in agreement.

“So,” Natasha leads, “how do you plan to create a legacy?”

William smiles, and it’s innocent-looking, but Natasha can only feel the sinister undertone. 

But she holds on because he’s looking at her like he trusts her–and she needs that to succeed. 

“To do as my family always has,” William tells her. 

“Create a better future for everyone.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha needs to lie down when she gets home.

It’s overwhelming, listening to Williams’s ideals and pretending she agrees with all of them.

It makes her want to vomit. 

She’s met guys like William before–rich people who hate the poor.

But they’re upfront about it.

William believes that he’s saving the poor by keeping the status quo. 

It’s delusional that he believes that, and dangerous. 

It only spurs her on that she needs to get a hold of one of those microchips she saw. She needed to understand what it was, what it was going to be used for. 

Natasha was sure that if she continued on as is, she would stand by William’s side as a big supporter and sponsor, but she needed to know what the microchip was beforehand.

There was something in her that told her something was deeply wrong.

And it doesn’t settle well with her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Time passes by fast for Natasha when she’s busy. A lot of time was going back to the building to scope out the area, the blind spots, the guard shift rotations–all of it.

And then she broke in and stole a microchip.

She immediately called Tony.

 _“What’s up, buttercup?”_ Tony answered the phone and Natasha could hear the loud Led Zeppelin song playing in the background.

“I’m sending you something. I need you to look at it and get back to me what it does.”

 _“What is it?”_ Tony asks with more clanking in the background.

“A microchip,” Natasha tells him.

“Like…for a phone?” Tony tries to clarify.

“I don’t know,” Natasha truthfully says and can hear Tony hum on the other line.

“Alright, drop it my way. I’ll get back to you on it. Everything else okay?” Tony checks in nonchalantly, but Natasha smiles anyways.

“Just another madman to bring down.”

Tony snorts. “Try not to completely destroy the man, alright?”

“No promises.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

After she hangs up on Tony, Natasha gets ready to head to the King’s estate to celebrate David’s parent’s anniversary. 

Smoothing out her dress and putting on her necklace, she checks herself once more in the mirror before she heads out to have the driver take her there. 

When she gets there, Natasha notices that you and William have arrived at the same time.

Natasha steps out of the car, watching the two of you. William is whispering something in her ear as he holds your wrists.

It’s a sharp nod you give, but William smiles so Natasha can’t discern if anything is particularly wrong, especially when William leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth.

When he pulls back, he catches Natasha standing at the side.

“Natanya! Glad to see you’ve made it.”

Natasha smiles and nods in response as William leans in to kiss both sides of her cheeks in greeting.

Her eye catches his driver from the side who hasn’t left.

“You’re not joining us?” She asks him, and William shakes his head.

“Unfortunately not. I need to head on a plane to Houston for a client. I just wanted to drop off my beautiful fiancé.”

Natasha looks over at you, smiling as you return a small one of your own.

“Take care of my fiancé for me,” William tells Natasha with a smile. “The Kings really like to celebrate and can get a little overboard with the drinking.”

Natasha laughs lightly and nods. William kisses you once more on the cheek before he leaves. 

Once he’s gone, Natasha turns to you. It looks like you’ve cleaned up as there’s no speck of paint on you like there usually is.

Natasha kind of misses seeing streaks of paint on you.

“NATANYA! YOU’RE HERE!” A loud shriek draws the attention of both of you and Natasha sees David standing at the door, waving enthusiastically for both of you to come in.

Natasha shakes her head a little bit with a smile. She turns to you, offering her arm out. You take it with a smile while Natasha leads you in.

“You look beautiful by the way,” Natasha tells you quietly before you both enter through the door.

There’s a large banquet and Natasha, as a friend of David’s, gets to sit closer along with you at the head of the table.

Liam wasn’t there, and while David said Liam was busy with work, she couldn’t help but notice the sad twinge in his tone. Most likely that Liam wasn’t welcomed. She comforted him however she could. 

But his parents seemed to absolutely adore Natasha. Clearly, they were hoping she could pull David out of his “phase.”

She didn’t know how to tell them at most she could be his beard. 

But she didn’t care either. 

All she could really notice was how you sat at the edge of the table, eating your food quietly and accepting any drink his parents gave you. 

She met your gaze a couple times. Sometimes you were flustered by being caught.

And sometimes, you held on, staring intensely at Natasha as if you could see everything.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Crap, she’s really drunk. My parents definitely went overboard with feeding her drinks. They’re so happy William is getting married. They seriously mention it every time I’m with them.”

Natasha hummed as she looked at you with your head down on the table. Natasha takes off her shawl and places it over your shoulder as she lifts your arm over her shoulder and helps you up.

“Are you sure you’re okay to take her home?” David asks Natasha again, and she nods. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m sure you want to meet up with Liam tonight, right? You should run along.” Natasha waved him off, and he sends her one last smile before he runs off to meet with his lover. 

Natasha adjusts you slightly to lean more against her as she brings you out to her driver.

“To the Cain’s estates, please,” Natasha tells the driver who nods, pulling out of the driveway. 

You sleep in the car, dozing lightly with your head against the window. The road is filled with small potholes and bumps, making your head hit the window occasionally. 

Natasha tilts her head slightly to the side, pulling you over so that your head falls lightly on her shoulder to rest instead. Natasha takes the moment to stare at you, your long lashes, plump lips, and soft skin. 

The alcohol had given you a rosy tint on your cheeks, and Natasha wondered if this would be how you’d rest if William were here. 

Would you be leaning on his broad shoulder instead?

Natasha didn’t have too long to dwell on it as soon the driver pulled into your home. 

“Shall I wait here, ma’am?” The driver asked as he looked in the rearview mirror, and Natasha shook her head. 

“Come back for me at 6am.”

The driver nodded as Natasha opened the door, helping you out as she approaches the door. Natasha digs for the keys in your purse, easily opening the door and hauls you inside. 

First thing Natasha notices is that there’s no one else in the house. Even the cleaners weren’t here. Everyone was gone for the night.

You groan lightly from her side, and Natasha turns over to see you wake slightly.

“Hey,” Natasha softly says to avoid giving you a headache. “Where’s your room?”

“Third floor on the last left,” you say, even though it’s a little slurred.

Natasha walks, smoothly guiding you up the stairs.

“Sorry, I mean the right,” you chuckle, and Natasha returns it.

“You don’t know where your own room is? Are you that drunk?”

“More like I haven’t been here that long,” you tell her.

“Oh, did you guys just move into this house?” Natasha asks. She doesn’t remember seeing that on William’s profile. 

But maybe he had hidden you somewhere else before making you public and moving you to his main home.

You just chuckle. “Something like that.”

Natasha reaches your room, helping you in and settling you on the bed. You fall on your back with a sigh, arms strung over your head. You grumbled at how uncomfortable it was with your long-sleeved dress.

Natasha sees a mini-fridge and opens it, grabbing you a bottle of water. 

You take it when she offers it to you, drinking most of it in one gulp. 

It’s silent, and Natasha stays while you sober up. She looks around the room and tries to not think about how William shares this room with you, the same _bed_.

“Did you find the party okay? You were a little quiet,” Natasha notes as she notices you looking soberer as the minutes’ pass. 

“Yes, _sorry_ , it was okay. I was just a little too nervous to talk,” you admit to Natasha, but continue to lie on your back.

“Okay, let’s talk then,” Natasha says as she rests her head in her hand that sits on the armrest. “Sorry, I’m not giving you much of a choice.”

Natasha can see you smile lightly from where she sits.

“That’s okay,” you tell her. “I like talking to you.”

Natasha leans back in her chair, delicately swiping at her bangs, pretending that her ears are not flushed.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” You say out of the blue and Natasha smiles.

“Always.”

You had taken notice of Natasha’s dark blue dress this evening that accented her collarbones.

The real reason you couldn’t talk tonight.

“Did you know the color blue is favored by many? Mostly preferred by men, but because it’s preferred by many, blue is viewed as a non-threatening color. It can be associated with being calm, serene, or even sad. Weirdly, it’s the least appetizing color, though.”

Natasha hummed.

“And what do you see the color blue as?” She asks.

There’s a momentary silence.

“I think the color blue is reliable,” you softly say.

“Do you think I’m reliable?” Natasha asks boldly.

There’s a sad smile, and Natasha doesn’t understand why.

“I’ve prayed that you are,” you admit in the dark. 

There’s a momentary silence before you speak up again. “Can I ask you something?” 

“You just did, but you can ask another,” Natasha teases, enjoying the way your cheeks flush as you smile lightly.

“Do you forgive easily?”

Natasha raised her brow at the question. 

“I suppose holding anger doesn’t do me much. Why do you ask?”

“What do you think of me?” You ask, ignoring her question.

It’s the way you ask it. It sounds desperate like you’re pleading her to think good things of you. Like you couldn’t bear it if she thought anything otherwise.

Natasha licks her lip, standing up and placing her knee at the edge of the bed as she puts her hands on both sides of you, hovering over you.

It’s there.

Somethings is.

Natasha can feel it in her gut.

And when she feels something, she’s most certainly always right.

Natasha doesn’t know what overcomes her, because this is _unnecessary._ While she thinks you play a significant role in her mission, she doesn’t need to seduce you to get what she wants. 

But that’s what makes it _real_ to Natasha. 

Because it’s _Natasha_ that wants you, not any role she has to play.

And because of that, she can’t let this moment pass.

“I think…you’re always on my mind,” Natasha tells you, her breath ghosting over you.

“I think that you like talking to me,” she reiterates what you’ve said earlier.

“I think you’re no longer surprised to see me.”

“You smell like soap and warm vanilla,” you whisper, and Natasha can’t help but tremble slightly that you noticed.

“I think you look forward to seeing me.”

“All these things you think about me are about you,” you tell her and Natasha quirks her lip softly.

“Not true,” she denies. “I think you’re sober. True?”

You slowly nod.

Natasha slowly leans down, her lips brushing against yours. Your breath hitches, and it spurs Natasha on.

But you place your hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

It confuses Natasha because she’s read all the signs, and she’s sure she was right.

“What’s wrong?” She asks. Maybe you’re not as sober as you thought and Natasha would never push you further if that were the case. 

You take a shuddering breath.

“I like you, Nat. I do,” you tell her and Natasha smiles. “And I want to get closer to you, but we’ve started off as friends…let’s end it like that as well.”

Natasha has felt many things before, but nothing like the way her heart is dropping now. She grips the bedsheets underneath her. 

She looks down at you, the expression on your face, the way you blink slowly with your long lashes. 

“You love him?” Natasha asks harshly because she can’t fathom that you would deny whatever it was that’s between the two of you. 

William was a criminal, maybe she can’t take him down now, but she will. Maybe she was wrong about your relationship with him.

You smile at Natasha in such a sad way that burns your throat as you whisper the reality to her, showing the ring on your finger.

“I’m engaged.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha is not in the mood the next time she runs into William at a local coffee shop.

In fact, she wants to murder him.

But she can’t because first and foremost, she’s an agent and she has a mission to complete. 

“Natanya!” William greets her enthusiastically. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Not really, this is the only nearby coffee shop for the both of us,” Natasha mutters.

“Hm?” William hums as he didn’t catch it.

“I said, how have you been?” Natasha says more loudly, internally wishing she could escape before she strangles the life out of William while asking how he managed to snag you.

“Oh, just great. Things are moving along faster than I anticipated. With the launch of my campaign, the next phase will be coming up quick.

“Oh?” Natasha says, forcing a smile. 

“Yes, in fact, since you were so kind as to donate so much to my campaign and we share so much in common, you should come to the meeting with the other sponsors tomorrow night.”

“Oh, it would be my honor. Where should I meet you?” She asks, but William just smiles.

“I’ll have someone pick you up.”

Natasha nods, and William bids her goodbye. As soon as he leaves and is out of sight, Natasha huffs and drops her smile.

She picks up her coffee bitterly and leaves the shop.

As she’s walking down the sidewalk, her phone starts ringing.  
  
Natasha picks up without even looking.

“Hello?” She says into the phone, a hardness to her tone.

_“Natasha, it’s Tony.”_

Hearing Tony’s voice, Natasha drops her shoulders a little, finding relief in talking to someone familiar and someone she liked…most of the time.

“Oh, hey. Did you find anything for me?”

_“Yeah…actually, I wanted to ask you. Where the hell did you get this chip?”_

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked.

_“I mean…this microchip is actually a bio nanochip. It’s meant to be inserted in your body, probably your ear or your eye.”_

“What’s it meant to do?”

 _“Well,”_ Tony breathed deeply, _“depends on what you’re looking to do. It’s a data collector.”_

“Data collector?” Natasha repeats.

_“Yeah, it collects all the information about a person. Blood type, age, physical description, all that jazz. It’s supposed to adjust as time goes on. It’ll know your favorite food, music, your preferences. It’s like an AI nanochip. It’ll eventually know what you’ll choose before you actually choose something.”_

Natasha hums.

“Okay,” she says slowly. “Can you figure out how to disable it if it’s been inserted in a person?”

 _“Why?”_ Tony asks, a slight rise in his throat. _“Has that happened? Is this an Avengers problem now?”_

“No,” Natasha says, walking faster begrudgingly back to her place. “Just for the worst-case scenario.”

Natasha hung up the phone.

She needed to find out what William had planned for the data he was collecting. 

This was much worse than she imagined.


	4. Part IV

The morning before Natasha was to meet William, she decided to stop by to see you again. Natasha’s not exactly sure what compelled her to do so, but it didn’t settle well with her how things ended last night. 

The maid let Natasha right in, stating once more that William was already gone to work. 

Now, Natasha stood before your studio door again, looking through the glass at your back once more. 

You were painting, working on the same piece you were last time. Whatever it was, you were intensely focusing on it.

Natasha let out a slight huff of breath as she tapped her knuckle lightly against the door.

You jumped slightly and genuinely.

“Come in,” you said, turning your attention to the door. You seemed surprised to see Natasha entered, but your face showed no memories of last night–to Natasha anyways.

“Natanya,” you greeted quietly, and it was then that Natasha finally got a better look at you. 

There were streaks of paint on you again, shades of yellow on your arm and even a stripe on your cheek.

Your hair was in a tied up messy bun, strands falling out and framing your face as you demurely tucked a stray strand behind your ear. 

Natasha missed _this_ look of you. Rather than the fancy dresses and strains of politicians around you, she wanted you to always look like this. 

But when she looked at the oversized men’s shirt on you, she couldn’t help but shirk a little.

And you noticed.

“Is that William’s?” It’s hardly words of greeting, and Natasha feels she might regret hearing the answer, but she can’t help it.

You’re ruining her. 

You look down at your shirt and chuckle lightly.

“No,” you tell her, and Natasha feels the tension in her stomach relax, and it annoys her a little.

“I end up ruining a lot of shirts when I’m painting, so I buy shirts in bulk for cheap,” you explain further, tugging slightly at the hem of your shirt.

Natasha only smiled, eyes flitting over to your painting. 

“Yellow today?” Natasha asks even though it’s clear with the streaks of paint on you.

You nod, looking at your work in progress as well. 

“Tell me something about the color yellow,” Natasha says, falling into habits.

“Other than the obvious things?” You tease her and tilt your head when she chuckles.

“Well,” you start, thinking of what to tell Natasha. “Yellow is actually a very difficult color to read. Since it reflects so much light, it’s straining to the eyes. I can’t help but feel happy when I see the color, though.”

“Why?” Natasha asks softly.

You look up to the ceiling, and Natasha wonders what you see.

“It reminds me of my childhood,” you reveal to her. “In my parent’s summer cabin they used to own by a lake. Many yellow flowers grew there, and my mother used to bake sweets while my father fished. I would draw in my sketchbook, and nothing mattered then.”

“What did you want to not matter?”

“The future,” you say quietly. 

The way you said it was so soft and sad that Natasha might’ve missed it if she weren’t hung up on your every word. But then the moment was gone when you looked back down and quirked your lip at Natasha. 

“What else do you see about the color yellow?” Natasha asks you, not sure what else she can say but she doesn’t want the moment to end.

“It’s a complex color,” you tell her. “But it’s also the color for friendship.”

There it was. 

Acknowledgment of last night.

Words that Natasha didn’t want to hear.

And so she crosses the threshold, invading your space as her hand touches the bottom of your back, dragging it’s way up until it’s between your shoulder blades.

“How are you so different from William?” Natasha asks quietly in your ear.

This was exactly what you had asked Natasha not to do, but she can’t help herself. She doesn’t want to pull away.

“How can you tell me to just be your friend?” It was a quiet hiss in your ear. Natasha lined her shoulder up to yours, her right hand covering your left. 

“How can I _only_ be your friend?” She asks you, her lips just brushing the tip of your ear and you bite your tongue.

“When I’m begging you like this?” Her forehead momentarily rests against yours as if in defeat and Natasha feels a wet spot against her wrist.

She pulls back to see a bright shade of yellow against her black sleeve. Your eyes pull down, and you frown.

“Sorry–I’m always getting paint on you,” you tell her, turning away to grab a cloth but Natasha grabs your hand.

“No,” she tells you. “I don’t want you to wipe it away.”

Her hand slowly slips from yours, and Natasha turns away to walks off, adjusting her coat in her arms. 

“Natanya, wait–”

Natasha stops and turns her head back at your call.

“Tell…tell me something interesting too,” you ask her softly.

Natasha purses her lips tightly before sighing as she gives you a half-hearted smile.

“It’s getting harder to pretend you exist only here to me.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose. 

She’s distracted. 

How immature of her, she thought. 

The entire afternoon, Natasha had been working on looking through the files and following up with Tony to see if he had anything.

The entire time, she couldn’t get you out of her head. 

A part of her–the dark park, whispered about how it was a weakness. You were a weakness, an infection that was making her inefficient. 

But after years of being with Clint, it was easier to silence the voice. 

She heard a car drive up to her front porch and checked the time. 

New plan, Natasha thought.

If she could find out tonight what William’s plans were, and in addition, secure all the microchips, she could be done with this all. 

William would be put away, the microchips wouldn’t be released, and you?

You…

Natasha released a heavy sigh from her nose before she opened the door to see the driver.

“Miss Rovinski,” he greeted before gesturing to the car. 

One step at a time, Natasha reminded herself.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The drive was shorter than Natasha thought was normal. 

The driver wasn’t taking her to the warehouse that Natasha had seen Emilio load off the microchips at. 

In fact, she ended up on the Cain’s estate once more, but instead of the main house, she was being led to the right-wing that was detached.

“Natanya, glad to see you made it okay,” William greeted her as she stepped in. She was the last to arrive, seeing many familiar faces of politicians and CEOs of companies that were supporting William’s campaign. 

There was one face that Natasha didn’t recognize. 

A woman with very sharp facial features, blonde hair, and in a tight pencil skirt stood a little further away with her hands behind her back.

Natasha took a seat as William started his presentation.

“I’m glad you all could make it. As you know, I’ve promised for my campaign something revolutionary…and I’m here to provide just that.” William grinned, throwing his palm out to the blonde in the back. She placed something in his hand and William brought it back, placing it delicately on the table.

“What this? A phone chip?” One of the CEOs asked as he leaned closer to take a look. 

William chuckled and shook his head.

“Not even _close_. This, everyone, is our _future_. It’s a bio nanochip, meant to be inserted just right behind your ear. It’s a data collector. Anything about yourself will be put onto this microchip. Health, genetics, personal preferences, _all_ of it.”

“Why would anyone want to have that?” Another person asked, William just grinning further.

“Think of it like this. Your family has a history of heart problem, the nanochip picks up on that. You’re constantly making unhealthy choices–not exercising, eating junk food, not visiting the doctor. The nanochip is picking all this up, by the way. Maybe you need a heart transplant–what would you do?”

The men and women looked at each other around the room, perplexed by the hypothetic situation.

“I would go to the best doctor available,” one woman said.

“What if you can’t afford it?” William countered.

“I–” She stuttered.

“What if you’re a student wanting to go to the best university there is, and you didn’t get any scholarships–what would you do?”

“Get student loans from the bank or government,” a CEO offered.

“You didn’t qualify, or maybe you don’t want to pay the insane interest rates for the rest of your life. What then?”

Everyone is silent. Natasha is confused about what exactly William wants to do. 

He pushes the nanochip forward.

“This nanochip collects all your data on you, gives you the information via an app. As stakeholders, you’ve all purchased your share into the company I’ve started up to provide this technology to the public. The chip is free itself but to get it, people must sign an agreement with our company that it can collect, use, or sell their data.” William lifted his finger off of the nanochip, looking at everyone. 

“In situations where maybe people are looking to get a little… _help_ , stakeholder and other companies who purchased into the company can reach out to this individual and set up a side contract with them. Be it their services or whatever they can offer in exchange for the financial help, connections, or whatever it is.”

Natasha felt her stomach dropping more and more as William spoke.

She was going to vomit, she’s sure of it. 

William was going to turn poor people into…into _slaves_ to the rich and to companies.

Poor people who can’t afford healthcare, education, a job, or even a home. They wouldn’t even realize what selling their information would do.

Who is to say a company or person using a someone’s information wouldn’t do things like make them unemployable–forcing them to turn to rich people and companies for help?

The worst part is many people wouldn’t even see a problem with it. They would be stuck in a cycle, relying on the rich to stay alive or achieve anything. The rich would have complete control over people who’ve signed their life away.

“Amazing,” A CEO said, looking at the chip. The potential for free employment was outstanding, and he was already increasing his profits for the upcoming year.

Sure, they may be shelling out thousands of dollars, but whatever they were shelling out would be made back on interest and their services. A trade of equal or higher value.

After all, humans are the best resource there is. 

“How do you know if companies will want to be involved?” A woman asked.

William grinned throwing a stack on paper on the table. “On average, 70% of businesses in each state has already invested in this. Even some internationally. The funding for everything is already secured.”

“When is it set to roll out?” Natasha asked, plastering a smile even though she felt sick.

“It’s already rolling out,” William told her, “it’s been going in batches. The last batch will be shipped out tomorrow night.”

The first thing in Natasha’s head was _panic_. 

The second was that she needed to call Tony and Steve immediately.

The third was that she needed to get a hold of the last batch. 

There was a small celebration happening, and Natasha stayed as she felt the group was too small for her to sneak out unnoticed. 

When it came to an end, Natasha made sure William watch her leave in her vehicle.

Halfway through, Natasha got her driver to stop, drop her in the middle nowhere, send him off on his merry way as she turned around and made her way to the warehouse on foot.

The warehouse was quiet, quieter than Natasha expected. No guards standing outside, but maybe because that would seem suspicious. Using her intel from last time, she slips through a window, landing gracefully and moves behind a pillar when she sees a guard standing inside at the door instead.

She makes her way quickly to where the crates were last time which was the back of the warehouse, but there’s nothing.

No crates. 

It was all gone. 

Suddenly, alarms were going off, and Natasha found herself in flashing red lights, guards were screaming, and there were footsteps quickly rushing towards her. 

Natasha didn’t have time to make it back to the window where she came in from and quickly left the through the nearest back door that led outside. 

Red flashing lights were on the outside too as the alarms continued to ring and Natasha was running into the trees and bushes outback. 

She could hear the footsteps running after her and Natasha thought she would have to take out the guards.

If she did that, it would alert William for sure someone was onto him. 

Just as Natasha debated on what her next move should be, an arm shot out from behind a tree, pulling her roughly in before shoving her down and underneath a bush to hide.

Natasha was about to attack whoever was on top of her, her body tensing up but when she found herself staring into your wide eyes, fingers to your lip as you signaled her to be quiet, she did as she was told.

Time seemed to stop as the silence shrouded the two of you, the footsteps in the distance.

The two of you didn’t dare move. 

It was an awful time to notice how warm your body was and how much it fitted against hers, but Natasha had always been acute to noticing everything around her.

It wasn’t until the footsteps and voices passed the bush the two of you hid in without incident, the voices fading further and further away until there was nothing but silence again. 

You let out the breath you were holding in, eyes closing in relief, shoulders sagging, and Natasha felt all the tension leave your body.

She wanted to open her mouth and ask you what in God’s name were you doing out here and how the hell you knew she was here.

But you opened your mouth first as you turned your head towards Natasha, eyes ablaze with fury.

_“What in the hell were you thinking?!”_


	5. Part V

The cab ride home was silent. 

Natasha’s mind was reeling as she sat next to you, a wide gap between the two of you as you sat on opposite ends in the backseat. 

You were looking out the window, elbow resting against the ledge as your knuckles were pressed against your lips.

Natasha took in your form, wondering how she got to this point. One moment she had made a mistake and then the next, she was under you.

She thought back to just 30 minutes ago.

_“What in the hell were you thinking?!”_

_Eyes wide, Natasha was too stunned to even respond. You got off of her, pulling her up with you. Turning your head, you looked toward the direction of where the men ran off too._

_“We should get out of here,” you say quietly, pulling Natasha along with you back to the main road where you had a cab waiting._

_Just before you reached the cab, Natasha seemed to finally come back to her senses, coming to an abrupt stop and yanking you back with her._

_“_ No _, what the hell are you doing here? How did you know I was here?” Natasha asks you immediately, and you frown._

_“Let’s get out of here first and I’ll…I’ll explain, okay?”_

_“Then let’s go back to my place then,” Natasha suggests. After the night she’s had, she’s not exactly too keen on going back to where William lives._

_“I can’t,” you tell her and Natasha raises her brow. “They’ll know if I’m missing.”_

_Natasha doesn’t know what to say to that because the way you say it while looking over your shoulder makes her want to pull you into her arms, but she just sighs and nods instead, following you into the cab._

You get the cab to stop further away from the estates. Natasha raises an eye at you as you pay the driver. Natasha understood that you didn’t want the driver to know that you were from the Cain’s estate. 

You were trying to minimize your steps and involvement, and you seemed adept to it.

The walk was a little long, but when the two of you arrived, Natasha noted that the estate was quiet. There were no lights on, and it was clear everyone had gone home for the night. 

Natasha let you lead her around to the back of the house, watching as you looked up at one of the security cameras, waiting for it to turn before you pulled her quickly past it.

You quietly pulled opened the kitchen door, lightly stepping in while Natasha followed behind you. As you passed the kitchen island, the lights suddenly turned on.

Natasha ducked to hide next to your leg while you looked up to see who was there.

“Evelyn,” Natasha heard you say. 

“It’s quite late. What are you doing down here, miss?” 

The voice was accented, and Natasha looked into the reflection of the oven. She caught wisps of blonde hair and an all too familiar pencil skirt.

It was that woman who was with William during the meeting. Why was she here?

“Yes,” Natasha listened as you spoke. She looked up to see your serious expression that had a slightly displeased tone to it. “I was just getting water. I am allowed to do that, you know.”

Allowed? Natasha thought. Were you being sarcastic with this woman?

“I meant nothing by it, miss.”

Natasha watched as you merely nodded sharply.

“Please turn off the lights, it’s hurting my eyes. I’m going to retire to my room.”

Evelyn nodded, turning off the lights as she got ready to leave. Before she did, she looked over her shoulder at you once more, and you opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

You waited until Evelyn was gone, letting out a quiet breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. 

You looked down at Natasha who was right next to your legs and found she was already staring intently at you. 

You beckoned her to follow you, wanting to get to your room before Evelyn might catch you. 

It was quick work to make it up the stairs and to your room. Once you had made it in, you shut the door with a soft click, locking it before leaning your back against it.

Natasha took a couple steps deeper in, noticing the quietness and the fact that William wasn’t in here.

“Where is he?” Natasha asked, turning to you in the dark room only illuminated by the moon outside.

“At his office,” you tell her, walking to put the water bottle on the table counter before making your way over to stand at the window. 

“Isn’t this a bad idea in case he comes back and I’m still here?” Natasha asked, staring at your form.

You were wearing a jacket and even when you took it off, you were wearing a long-sleeved shirt.

It occurred to Natasha that she’s never seen you in short sleeves. Even in your studio, you wore oversized t-shirts where the sleeve came down past your elbows.

“We don’t share the same bedroom.”

You turned back to face Natasha, leaning against the windowsill as you crossed your arms over your stomach. The moonlight hit your back, seeping around you and Natasha thought you looked incredibly soft. She was tempted to walk over, wrap her arms around you, and steal you away.

But she didn’t.

She needed answers.

“Explain.”

Natasha watched as you licked your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over it swiftly. You get up, walking over and meeting Natasha halfway as you stood before her.

“Can I ask you something first?” 

Natasha tilts her head, regarding you but finally nods.

“What did you plan to do with me after?”

At first, Natasha doesn’t understand the question, but then she realizes that you were asking her what she would’ve done with you after taking William down.

Because you knew that she eventually would.

Meaning…you knew who she was.

“How did you know about me? How did you know I was there?” Natasha asks again more sternly this time, but what she really wants to ask is if you knew…why hadn’t you told William?

“Remember when I asked you if you forgave easily?” You ask her weakly, and Natasha frowns.

Because if you’re asking that, is the answer going to be something that will make her angry?

“This is a little hard for me to say, I don’t really know how to tell you this,” you admit to her.

Your tone and expression makes Natasha want to tell you that it’s okay, you don’t have to tell her if it’s too hard because whatever you’re going to tell her, it’s obviously going to change everything.

But she can’t.

You look Natasha in the eye as you lick your lip and let out a disgruntled sigh.

“I’ve known about you…for a long time. I saw you coming.” You tell her, but it just makes Natasha more confused as she squints her eyes.

“You…saw me coming?” She tries to clarify to herself, really.

You nodded. 

“I can see the future.”

Natasha froze, letting the words settle over her as a daunting realization seeped into her eyes.

“I can’t control it,” you try to explain to her in a rush. “It just…comes. I had one after you left this morning. That’s how I knew where you were. If I didn’t come, you would’ve either been caught, or William would’ve known someone was onto him.”

Natasha looks like she was about to say something, her mouth opening slightly before closing. 

You feel your stomach dropping because it’s obvious Natasha feels betrayed. She doesn’t understand you. 

You seemed to be simultaneously covering for William while helping Natasha too.

What exactly were your intentions? Natasha wondered.

Natasha felt like she was being played a fool. With a shake of her head, she turned around to leave, and you’ve never felt so _scared_.

“No– _wait_ , Natasha, please,” you beg her, but it’s just another sharp reminder when you call her by her real name. You grab her hand, desperate for her to not leave, and Natasha doesn’t pull away.

“Please,” you spoke in a rush. “Please–just– _don’t go_. You can ask me anything.”

“Can you let me leave?”

“I can’t do that,” you tell her and Natasha frowns. “Ask me something else.”

Natasha looks at the determination in your eyes along with hints of pleading that she purses her lips and resigns to staying.

She turns to you, backing you up until your back hits against the windowsill trapped between Natasha’s arms.

“Tell me the truth,” she tells you, and you nod slowly.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“…Yes.”

“Am I still full of mystery?”

You think back to when you first told her about the color black.

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’m reliable?”

The color blue pops up in your mind, and it’s easy for you to push out the truth.

“Yes.”

“Did you hope to enter past my boundaries?”

The question surprises you, but you answer her honestly.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Tell me something interesting.”

Your heart was thudding in your ears, but you did as she said.

“I hate being able to see the future, but being able to see you makes it a gift.”

“Even though you told me no, did you hope to see me again?”

“Yes,” you clench your jaw before you answered.

“Tell me something interesting about myself.”

You feel nearly dizzy from all the questions that you whisper out your answer.

“You’re a color in my head that can’t be explained.”

Natasha’s eyes soften as she leans more into you, her body lining up perfectly with yours and it told her what she’s already known.

“Do you love him?”

You shook your head.

“Tell me a secret,” Natasha asks, her head coming closer to yours. Her hands drag away from the window as it cups your neck and jaw on both sides.

Your eyes flutter closed, and it feels painful to reveal what you’re about to, but you do as you’re told while your hands come up to grab at Natasha’s arms.

“I’ve lost my heart to you.”

“Then you can’t blame me for this,” Natasha whispers against your lips before pressing her lips completely over yours, kissing you gently but firmly.

The feeling travels down, hitting you in the gut, and even tingling all the way down to your toes.

It’s overwhelming. The colors you see in your head.

When she pulls back, Natasha rests her forehead against yours, her fingers catching strands of your hair between them. 

Her eyes are momentarily closed as she revels in this moment. She opens her eyes, and yours flutter open as you gaze at each other. 

She’s resolved, and your heart uncontrollably swells as she whispers against your lips, “Now that it’s mine, I’m not going to give it back.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha leaves before William will return, but not before you held her hand and kissed her knuckles softly.

“You should call them to come,” you say, moving her fingers, so the pads of her fingers brush gently against your lips.

“Them?” Natasha asks.

“The Avengers,” you clarify. 

“Am I no longer capable of taking William down on my own?”

She sounds mildly offended that you can’t help but grin slightly. “No, there’s a future where you can, but for efficiency purposes, you should call them.”

Natasha snorts softly, bringing you closer for another kiss.

She hates it.

Hates leaving you here with William.

She has so many questions but not enough time to ask.

“Fair enough, Tony should have something by now, and I think he likes beating up other billionaires.” Natasha can already see Tony preparing his jet before she can tell him everything.

She smiles faintly when she hears you giggle.

“How long do we have?” Natasha asks as she pulls a strand of your hair between her index finger and thumb. 

“The chips have already been shipped out. Tomorrow, people will start buying them. William still has to set up his software and system that will hold that data and then sell the information. The day after tomorrow will be your last chance.”

Natasha nods. In that case, she really does need to go. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Do you hope to?” You throw back at her, causing Natasha to grin.

“Very much so,” she tells you.

“Then yes,” you tease. “William will be gone tomorrow night, so you can come through the balcony.”

“You can’t leave?” 

“Evelyn is watching me.”

There it is again, more questions Natasha wants to ask, but she has to go.

She sighs and nods.

“Alright, tomorrow then,” she promises you, kissing you chastely once more.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The moment she gets home, she calls Tony immediately.

_“Finally! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours, did you d–”_

“Tell Steve to assemble everyone and get down here.”

It was silent on the line for a moment.

_“How bad?”_

“Just under mass genocide.”

Tony sighed. _“Send me your report, I’ll send it to everyone else to read while we’re flying. I think I found the solution to your chip problem, though. Just some kinks to work out.”_

“Great, see you in a few then.”

_“You’re welco–”_

Natasha hung up, smirking as she knew it Tony would be huffing by now. 

She went and sat in front of her laptop, stretching her fingers before cracking down.

There were still a lot of loose ends she needed to tie up. 


	6. Part VI

“…There’s something different about you.”

Natasha looked at Steve who was eyeing her, a slight squint in his eyes. 

“Like what?” Natasha cocks her brow at him.

Steve continually eyes her but he doesn’t say anything else. But he knows there’s something different about his friend. They’ve arrived 10 hours ago and since then, Natasha keeps looking outside like she’s watching the time pass by.

Everyone was currently crowded around her dining room table, laying out what the plan was going to be. 

“He should have his set up somewhere. I developed a counter bug to this sicko’s software. All you have to do is get to his computer and plug this USB in. Everything else should be taken care of. It will deactivate every chip there is and scramble any information that was gathered so they’re unsellable.”

Natasha nods, grabbing the USB stick from Tony.

“Do you still have the list of companies that were interested in this program?” Tony asks.

“Yeah, why?” Natasha asks as she puts the USB stick away.

“Give it to me,” Tony says and Natasha opens a drawer and throws a stack of papers onto the table for Tony to grab.

“Why?” Natasha raises her brow.

“I’m going to make their stocks drop and then make them bankrupt,” Tony casually says as he takes the stack of papers and gets F.R.I.D.A.Y to analyze and store the names.

Everyone just grins.

“What?” Tony says defensively.

“You’re soft,” Natasha teases with a smirk while everyone starts giggling.

Tony’s jaw drops and looks as Natasha offendedly.

“First of all–” Tony starts to say but is interrupted by Natasha’s cellphone ringing. She looks at everyone as if to warn them to behave as she takes the call.

She looks on the screen to see that it’s David calling her. Natasha turns her body slightly away as she takes the call.

 _“Natanya?”_ David sounds extremely frantic on the line. 

“David?” Natasha responds confusedly.

 _“God–okay,”_ David panicked as he heard Natasha’s voice. _“Fuck! I don’t–Can you–”_

“David, David, _calm down,_ ” Natasha told him in a calm voice, trying to get him to slow down. She heard a deep breath on the other line.

“Can you please come by my place?” David asked shakily.

“Why? What’s wrong?” 

_“God, fucking William…that fucking bastard. I’m going to fucking kill him, I swear to God–”_

“David! I don’t understand, what’s wrong?” Natasha cut David off. She was getting a sinking feeling in her stomach, the one that told her that something awful happened.

_“He beat her… **bad**. She’s here right now, but all she kept saying was to call you. Just come, okay?”_

It was like someone took a swift punch to Natasha’s gut. She hung up the phone immediately, briskly walking to grab her jacket on the way out.

“Natasha, where are you–” Steve asked but Natasha was already gone. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There was frantic knocking on his front door, but David was already waiting in his foyer, pacing back and forth. 

He opened the door with a wide swing. Natasha stood before him, lips pressed in a thin line as he let her in. 

“Where is she?” Natasha asked throat raspy from how choked she was at the thought of you hurt. 

“She’s in a guest room. Liam is bandaging her up.” David says as he leads Natasha up the stairs. 

He takes a left and the door to the room is opened. Natasha sees you lying there in bed, your body under the covers with your arm out as she watches Liam is disinfecting some of the cuts on your arm. The sudden appearance at the door grabs your attention as you turn your head over.

Natasha sucks the air in sharply between her teeth.

There’s a nasty cut on your left eyebrow and your cheek is bruised and swollen, an ugly color taken over your once smooth skin. 

“Nat…” your throat is so dry and raspy that Natasha was sure you had cried.

It was breaking her heart.

Natasha walks into the room, putting her hand on Liam’s shoulder softly. He takes the cue and leaves, ushering along David as he shuts the door and gives the two of you privacy.

It’s silent.

Natasha doesn’t know what to say because the only thing that wants to come out of her mouth is a choked sob at looking how broken you look. The next thing is that she swears she’s going to kill William. It’ll be a slow and painful death and she doesn’t care that it’ll add to her ledger. 

She takes a seat next to your bed, grabbing the white bandage in one hand and cream in the other. Natasha delicately grabs your arm, applying the cream to the cuts and bruises before slowly wrapping the bandage until it comes to an end at your elbows.

Natasha’s eyes travel down to your fingers, catching the soft stains of paint that still linger and for some reason, it hits Natasha and she’s grabbing your hand, pressing your knuckles to her forehead.

“Nat…” you say softly and it grabs her attention as she kisses the back of your fingertips gently before looking at you.

“What happened?” Natasha asks.

You give her a half-hearted smile. 

“We’re not as conspicuous as we thought. There was a maid who caught us last night as you left.”

“And he…he did _this_ to you because of that?” Natasha fumed.

“William is a selfish man, Natasha. Everything I am doesn’t belong to me,” you tell her quietly.

Natasha clenches her jaw because it makes her f _urious_ , but she swallows it.

Her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. She sighs, pulling it out to see that it’s Steve calling her. She hangs up the call but sends a quick text to say she’s on her way back.

Natasha turns back to you.

“Come on, you can’t stay here,” Natasha tells you. It’s not safe to merely stay at David’s. She doesn’t doubt that David would swing a bat to William’s knees if he showed up, but Natasha is worried that William can still show up to take you. 

Natasha helps you out of bed. “Can you stand?”

You nod, but take the extra support that Natasha offers you and lean against her as you make your way out.

“Where you going?” David asks as you make it down to the foyer.

“I’m taking her back to my place, she’ll be safe there. I don’t want to make it awkward for you since you’re family friends and all.”

“Oh,” David scoffs. “We’re _way_ past awkward now. I’ve already called his mother and I’m about to let everyone know what a bastard he is. Let’s see how that helps his campaign. So, God, _help me_ if he shows up here.”

David was so heated up, his cheeks were red as he rubbed his temples. Liam passed him a glass of water and gave the two of you half-hearted smile.

“Make sure to change your bandages in a couple hours,” Liam tells the two of you and Natasha nods. They help open the door and Natasha gently places you inside the passenger seat, closing the door gently before she gets into the driver’s side.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

All eyes are on Natasha when she brings you in. 

You feel slightly awkward and embarrassed for meeting everyone in such a poor state, but Natasha merely holds you tighter. She’s carrying you bridal style as she’s worried you’ll be in more pain if you walk too much.

Everyone is just looking at you. Looking at your bruises with a grim expression and you flush red under the attention. Steve gives you a small smile that you return before Natasha walks past everyone, putting you into a room on the main floor, softly setting you on the bed. She throws the cover over you, brushing her finger gently across your cheek.

She places a bottle of water on your tableside.

“I’ll be back,” Natasha tells you quietly, swiping her finger gingerly once more at the side of your cheek. She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

“So,” Tony drawls. “Who’s that?”

Natasha rubs her face tiredly as she comes back to stand around the table with everyone again.

“William’s fiancé,” she says plainly.

“Oh…” Everyone recalls in Natasha’s report.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asks.

Natasha bites her tongue because the last thing she wants to admit is that she fucked up.

“William caught us.” 

“Us as in our mission?” Steve tries to clarify but Natasha merely shrugs.

“Maybe.”

“Well, that doesn’t change much. Not like he can speed anything up. If anything, just means we have to beat up more goons,” Tony says, Natasha internally sighing in relief from any more questioning.

It’s not that she’s ashamed of you, but she’s not ready to put you on the line. You’re _hers_ and Natasha always keeps everything that’s hers _safe_.

The next couple of hours are spent planning again before it comes to an end and everyone leaves to get some rest.

It’s just Steve who stays behind.

“She’s the one who can see the future, right?” Steve says, trying to remember the report he briefly read on the plane.

Natasha nods. 

“This guy…William…he did this to her?” Steve asks clenching his jaw.

Natasha nods again.

It seems stoic, but Steve has gotten pretty good at reading Natasha.

“What is it that you want for her?” Steve asks because it’s easier than asking what you meant to her. 

Natasha taps her fingers against her biceps as she mulls over the question, over what you’ve told her.

“I want her to be free,” Natasha says and Steve catches the unsaid words. 

Free to do what you want, love who you want, free from _him_.

Steve gives Natasha a small smile, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Good thing we’re freedom fighters,” he jokes lamely and Natasha rolls her eyes with a smile for his comfort. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The room is quiet when Natasha enters. She finds you sitting up against the pillows, looking outside the window into the night. The sound of the door opening catches your attention as you turn your head over. 

Natasha shuts the door quietly behind her, leaning against the wooden frame for a moment before she pushes herself off, making her way over. Natasha takes a seat on the edge of the bed, one hand over your legs resting against the mattress. 

It’s quiet as Natasha takes in your form.

A part of you wants to turn away because you don’t feel beautiful with the mars over your face, but Natasha doesn’t let you escape her gaze as she lifts her other hand to cup your jaw and neck, pulling you into a soft kiss. 

You sigh lightly at the feeling of lips against yours and Natasha takes advantage by swiping her tongue at your bottom lip, kissing you deeply, and sucking on your bottom lip at the end. When she releases you, she looks over at your bandages and takes a deep breath.

“Alright, we should change your bandages,” Natasha says as she gets you to sit up straighter. She diligently changes or bandages, giving your arm a slight pat before she looks at you.

“I’ll give you a change of clothes so you can sleep comfortably,” Natasha walks over to the drawers and pulls out a change of clothes. She gives it to you but before she can walk out, you grab her arm.

“I…” You cough awkwardly, cheeks flushing red. “I can’t reach the zipper of my dress.”

Natasha tilts her head but nods as you stand up, slightly wobbly but steadied as Natasha held you. Tucking your head to the side, Natasha grips onto the zipper. 

Before she can pull down, you use your good arm to grab her hand.

“I…” You say quietly, nervous, and unsure. 

Natasha raises her brow, and you clear your throat.

“I won’t look,” she promises in an attempt to reassure you.

“It’s not that,” you tell her, licking your lips. “I just…I’m not… _perfect_.”

The way you emphasize the last word makes Natasha bite her tongue because she wants to blurt out that you are. At least to her, and nothing could change that.

But she merely goes back to unzip your dress. As the zipper gets lower and the sides fall apart to reveal your skin, Natasha sucks in a deep breath. 

Your back was tattooed. There were flower petals and an outline of wings over your shoulder blade that carried down to the bottom of your back.

It would’ve been beautiful. But Natasha couldn’t help but focus on the angry scars all over your back. They were jagged and dark, but have long faded away into what they were. 

It made Natasha want to cry. 

The dress began to slip down your shoulders as you put your arms around yourself to keep it from completely falling. 

You turned around and looked at Natasha’s expression.

God, how it broke your heart to see her like that. 

You think back to the very first time you saw her… _really_ saw her, and for a moment, you’re in disbelief that she’s in love with you. 

“Did he…” Natasha begins to ask, but she can’t finish the sentence because she doesn’t know how she can ask out loud without storming out right now to find William and slaughter him. 

Damn the rules and mission. 

You look away out the window again before turning your face back to Natasha.

“You and I both understand what it’s like to be captured.”

Natasha hates it.

Because she doesn’t want you to understand what it’s like. She walks closer, pulling you closer as she grips the edge of your dress and lets it slide down. She turns you around so she can examine the scars in closer detail. You feel so exposed with her face so close, fingers unabashedly tracing your scars. 

Your breath hitches when Natasha drops to her knees, pressing her soft lips against the dip of your back. She drags her lips against your skin as she comes back up, pulling you to bed with her. 

Natasha unsnaps your strapless bra, throwing the garment on the floor. Lying you at the foot of the bed on your stomach, she climbs over you, fingers tracing your shoulder blade before it makes its way to a scar just under.

The air is different.

You can tell Natasha’s intention isn’t sex.

It’s a different kind of intimate. 

The one where she wants to know everything about you, everything that’s been carved into you, and it’s almost overwhelming.

You fold your arms, head resting against it as you close your eyes, and let yourself feel Natasha’s fingers tracing your back.

“I want to _know_ you,” Natasha says and you hum.

“Okay.”


	7. Part VII

_**10 years ago…** _

Your name was being shouted from a distance. You turned your head, seeing your mother calling you back into the house. Closing your sketchbook, you got up, dusting your pants before making your way back in.

“Really, you shouldn’t be outside too long,” your mother half-heartedly scolded you.

“Why not? We’re in the countryside. There are no neighbors for miles and miles away,” You rebuttal, a little upset that you had to come in.

Your mother merely raises her brow at you. “You’re getting a bit more of an attitude every day, missy. I didn’t say anything when you got your tattoos, but no sass-mouthing me.” 

She says it so jokingly that you can’t help but smile along.

“It’s going to rain today,” you say, and your mother seems confused.

“Really? The weatherman said it’ll be sunny all day,” she muses.

“It will rain,” you confirm. 

“Best get the laundry in then,” your mother rushes off.

You grin, watching your mother runoff. Your family was wealthy with your father running his own company, but even so, you lived in a beautiful house out in the countryside, away with people and no hired help. Well, you used to have a maid at least, but she had quit saying the countryside was not settling well with her body. Your family paid her a lot of hush money.

Your family adored you, and when they discovered your strange gift, it really worried them what could happen to you if anyone knew.

The worry that people would take you, want to experiment on you, or take advantage of you pushed your parents to make the decisions they did.

So, you and your family took care of your daily things while your father would go run his company, often coming home late at night. 

It was a simple life.

Everything was good.

Or so you thought.

“I just…I don’t know what we’re going to do. I may have to claim bankruptcy. We’re hardly making the payments we need to do. The company just keeps getting worse, and I don’t understand why. I had to lay off 80 people today. I’ve closed down many factories in the last month.”

You stood quietly at the door, slightly ajar for you to peer in to see your father in a stressed state as your mother tried to comfort him.

“Should we move back into the city?” Your mother suggests, but your father shook his head.

“No, it’s worse for our daughter out there. You know that. There are too many people and sounds. It triggers the visions.”

Your mother purses her lips but agrees. They sigh stressfully together, your mother’s head on your father’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out, darling, we always do.”

It made you feel awful. 

That night you stared at the ceiling in bed, praying an answer would come.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were in the field again, resting against the tree, sketching the view before you.

It was peaceful, but in the sense that it’s the calm before the storm. You were anxious.

Last night, you were getting horrible visions of a man in a fiery crash. He was stuck in the vehicle, screaming a name you couldn’t hear. The vehicle caught on fire, and there was so much blood.

The crash had disfigured his face, but his expression haunted you.

You weren’t sure what to do with it because you didn’t know who this man, where he was, or when it was happening. 

Hell, you couldn’t make out his face without the blood and shards of glass.

A part of you wasn’t sure if maybe you were just having nightmares.

But the same vision kept coming over and over the next few nights. You were getting ragged, and your parents could tell. 

They were happening more frequently, with more details each time, but it wasn’t like you had any more understanding. 

You spent a day, just trying to mimic what the man was saying in the car before he died. Your mouth followed his movements, but you weren’t getting anywhere. 

You felt like you were going to go crazy, watching the same man dying.

It kept going, and going, and going, and going, and going…

Until one day, it stopped. 

A part of you was relieved, but there was a drop in your stomach wondering if it stopped because it happened, and it was no longer a future possibility. 

The days were peaceful once more. 

Well, as can be. You could tell your parents were getting more stressed as they were running out of money, getting closer, and closer to bankruptcy.

You were sure the peaceful days were coming to an end, and you felt so guilty you couldn’t do more. 

“–rry, I’m just really lost. How do I get back to the main road?”

You turned your head, stretching to see a tall, handsome man with a couple dirt stains on his suit. 

He looked shy.

Your mother merely laughed at his sheepish boyish grin.

“Well, let me draw you a map. Why don’t you come in and grab some tea? Must’ve been some adventure, huh?”

The man laughed and walked inside. 

You quietly crawled through the tall flowers, peering inside the kitchen glass door to see the man sit down. 

You tilted your head to the side, observing him.

He was obviously wealthy, catching his Rolex watch on his wrist.

You did find it a little weird for someone to get lost here. This was quite out of the way of anything.

He turned his head, and then your eyes met. 

He looked shocked, mouth agape. 

He actually flushed and looked away. 

Since you were caught, you stood up, coming through the side door of the kitchen. Your mother looked shocked to see you. Even a little wary.

“This is my daughter,” Your mother told the man, introducing you.

The man stood abruptly up, coughing slightly as he stuck his hand out towards you.

“I’m William Cain.”

Your mother hummed. “Your dad doesn’t happen to own Cain Holdings, does he?”

William nodded, and your mother gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I heard about the accident. I’m really sorry to hear about him.”

William merely thanked her with a half-smile before looking back at you. You tilted your head down, looking a the map your mother drew and hummed.

Grabbing the pen, you re-drew the path he should take.

“Is it wrong?” Your mother asked.

“No, but…the roads are tricky over there. It is best he takes this route back to the main road.” You quietly say, passing the sheet of paper to him with a small smile. “It was nice to meet you.”

And then you left. Your mother is someone that doesn’t like you meeting strangers, so it’d be best to limit interactions.

She heard small noises from downstairs, but soon, William was on his way.

She thought that was the end of that.

Until he showed up again.

And then again, and again, and again. 

The next couple of times, he came with small gifts like chocolate, cookies, or little trinkets, saying it was a thank you for helping him.

The next couple of times, he would come up with ridiculous lies to say he was visiting. 

One day, he merely said he wanted to see you.

Then the reasons no longer mattered. 

You couldn’t classify that you were in love with William, your heart just didn’t feel that way. But you weren’t unsatisfied to be with him. Especially knowing he could help your father.

Before you knew it, he wanted to whisk you away, back to his estate. He thinks you just have a frail body, which is why you’re in the countryside. He promises your parents of a quiet place for you, where you can still have fresh air, and lots of room to draw and paint. 

He promises a partnership for your father’s company.

And with your reassurance, they hand you to him. 

“Don’t tell William about your abilities, dear,” your mother tells you as she helps you pack your clothes. “I know he loves you, but you never know.”

You nod, feeling your throat burn as your about to leave your parents. 

“We can visit at any time. Heck, we may even decide to move back to the city,” your mother tries to reassure you, but you’ll miss her anyways. 

With hugs and kisses goodbye, a final piece of advice, you part ways with your family.

Never to see them again.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

William’s place is quiet. 

Much more quiet than you had expected. There are no pictures on the wall, only paintings and trinkets. You meet his mother, who’s just thrilled to have ‘such a young, graceful lady around.’

She seems sweet but also distant. She looks out the window a lot like she’s expecting someone to come home at any time. 

William is still finishing university, it was a wonder how he found so much time to visit you. On top of that, he was busying himself to take over his father’s business. 

You’re still getting used to the city air. It’s not quite the same as the countryside, but you find that you don’t mind it at all. 

William seems to be keeping you a secret because, as the years pass, you never meet anyone new. You’ve visited your parents rarely, and it seems to be getting more infrequent.

There’s an unsettling fear in your stomach, and you don’t understand why. It feels like you’re being tested. William asks your opinion on everything, trying to gauge your reaction.

You’ll purposely choose the wrong thing or say the wrong thing because your mother’s words can’t escape your head.

You’re now having reoccurring nightmares of the man dying in the car crash again. He’s screaming and screaming, but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Waking up in cold sweats and an empty bed, you’re scared out of your mind. 

You want to leave. 

So in the dead of night, while William is gone, you sneak into the hallways. 

Suddenly, you hear footsteps and noises. Panic overtakes you as you scramble through a door you haven’t been through before. You shut the door, leaning against it as you listened to the footsteps and voices walk right past you.

Sighing in relief, you stood up straighter and turned around. It was dark, but the moonlight outside illuminated the room enough for you to see. 

You realized that it wasn’t so much a room, but a hallway. Against the wall were portraits lined up side by side. Walking over, you looked at the photos one-by-one. Typically, this was a room you weren’t allowed to enter. William or a maid always led you away.

This must be generations of men in William’s family, you thought. 

You come to the last photo. It must be William’s father. You haven’t really seen a big, clear picture of the man before. Even in news articles, they were always taken from afar. 

You stood before the large portrait that seemed to loom down on you, staring at you with his clear features and eyes.

A sharp pain shot through your head as you hissed, hand coming to your eyes as the images rush through your head.

It’s the dying man again.

But you can hear everything this time, see more clearly.

_“WILLIAM! WILLIAM!” He screams, desperately trying to unbuckle his seatbelt. The car is incredibly hot, a small fire coming from under the hood with smoke. Shards of glass are stuck in his face, and there’s just so much pain._

_He can hear a car door shut just a few feet from him. He turns his head to see his son come up to the window._

_“WILLIAM, GET ME OUT OF HERE!” He yells, pulling at his seatbelt again. A truck just came out of nowhere, and the fire was starting to grow._

_William stood by the driver’s side, careful to not lean too close with the broken glass as he crouched down, his face stoic._

_“You don’t understand our legacy, father. You’re going to ruin everything our family has created for generations.”_

_His father watched as William got up, walking away without even stumbling._

_“WILLIAM! WILLIAM!”_

_He called and called, but his voice was soon drowned out by the sound of the vehicle exploding._

Your head felt heavy as you were gasping in pain. It was like your right eye was throbbing. 

“You know, don’t you?”

You whipped around to see William, who just turned onto the hallway, casually leaning against the wall.

You stumble back a little bit, but then your back hit someone else’s. You turn your head to see Evelyn, the last maid you had.

“Evelyn…? What are you–”

“It’s fine, release her,” William cuts you off. 

Evelyn lets go of your shoulders, and William walked to stand before you.

“You know what I did, don’t you?” William says to you again, his arms crossed over his chest.

“N-No, I don’t–” You stuttered.

“Don’t lie,” William tsked at you. “I heard from our little rich circle years ago about your parents who had a darling little girl…but something was off about her, she was always predicting things that happened.”

William uncrossed his arms, lifting his hand to caress a strand of your hair. “I paid Evelyn a lot of money to see if it was true. Then I swept you away…keeping you here to see myself.”

“So,” William drawled, “What else have you seen?”

“N-nothing,” you say, and it’s true, at least nothing related to William. 

William merely smiles at you.

“I guess we’ll have to change that.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was dark.

And cold.

You don’t know how many days you’ve been in this…hole.

Evelyn has taken you deep into the basement. You’re sure you’re well beneath the floor in this cell. 

They dropped you in here with no way of getting out.

It felt like you were in a well. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Your screams were echoing.

Arm out as your hands stretched to reach…reach _something_.

“I don’t like it when you run, don’t you understand that by now?” William’s voice sounded disappointed with you. 

The blade he held carved into your skin, and you could feel a warm liquid dribble out and slide down your sides.

“P-Please stop…” you begged with tears in your eyes and throat raw from screaming.

“Don’t run from me anymore.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were back in the dark.

Knees crouched to your chest, you had your head down. 

Evelyn came by, and you were mad at her. Hated her with every fiber of your being. 

You want your parents, your parents will know you’re missing if they keep visiting and you’re never around.

Evelyn says your parents won’t visit anymore.

You won’t get to see them until you’re dead, she tells you. 

You don’t know what to do anymore. 

You’ve been in here for weeks. Your back has begun to scab over, but you refuse to give anything to William. 

You stare straight ahead, even if you can’t see anything.

You start to wonder if you should give up and join your parents.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Still nothing?” William says to you as you’re forced to kneel before him.

He comes up to you and gets down on one knee. Your face is bruised, and he cups it gently like he cares about you.

“I don’t want to treat you like this, you know. I meant what I said to your parents when I said I’d take care of you. You need to let me take care of you.”

You clench your jaw at the mention of your parents, but you don’t say anything.

William moves in to try to brush his lips against yours, but you vehemently turn your head away.

For a second, you think he might hit you again, but he just sighs.

“Evelyn, take her back,” William says, but he turns to you again. “I want you to help me, but if you can’t, I don’t have any problems achieving what I need to without you too. Don’t become useless to me.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Your back rests against the slightly curved wall. Your hair feels matted, and you just feel grimy in general.

William’s words keep replaying in your head, but you can’t help but feel hopeless.

You’ve stopped eating the meals Evelyn brings you. 

It doesn’t matter anymore, you think. 

You stare into the nothingness so long you think you’re eyes have adjusted. 

People think that the dark is just black, but it’s not. There are no words to describe the lack of colors around you. 

A sharp pain hits your head again as you hiss, bringing your hand to your eye.

The sudden colors are so vivid and bright, it almost hurts you. 

You see flashes of red hair, luscious lips, a black suit, and a pair of piercing emerald eyes.

You just see quick flashes of different scenes, but you know one thing for sure.

She’s going to take down William.

“Natasha,” you whisper to yourself as if to test the name on your lips. 

It makes you feel warm.

And you get a feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Then I got myself together…forced myself to give into William and paved his way exactly the way it had to be to bring you here.”

You feel something wet hit your bare back.

Turning your head as far as you can to see tears falling from Natasha’s eyes and it trickles down her face, hitting your back a couple more times.

You wonder if it’s awful to think she looks beautiful when she’s crying too. You turn your body over, Natasha adjusting herself so you can do so.

With your bare chest exposed to her, you lift your hand and cradle her cheek, smiling a little when she presses herself more into your palm.

“Why are you crying?” You ask her softly, using your thumb to wipe a tear that was falling.

“I’ll kill him,” Natasha says, turning her lips into your palm as she kisses the area tenderly. 

You chuckle softly because you’re not sure if she really will or not, but it warms your heart nonetheless. 

“Do you want to know something interesting?” You ask, your other hand pulling on her shirt, so Natasha will lean down closer to your lips.

Natasha hums.

“When I saw you…I held onto you. Through every dark night, painful crying, and feeling so wretched…I remembered you.” You whispered as Natasha’s lips got closer. Your thumb stroked the softness of her cheek as Natasha gripped onto your sides tightly, screwing her eyes shut as you told her what she meant to you.

“You’re such a beautiful color, Natasha. You’re the soft blue that comforted me, the yellow that brought me happiness, a pure white that gave me light the darkness, and the green that brought me _hope_. Do you understand me?”

You’re so desperate for her to understand.

Because without her, you would’ve never made it out alive, _and you need her to know that._

Your lips brush against Natasha’s as her body lines up with yours. You shiver, feeling her cover your chest.

“You saved me.”

Natasha won’t let you say anymore as her lips crashes onto yours, but you feel her emotions dripping into you as she kisses you deeply. Her grip loosens as she pushes her arms under your back to hold you closer. 

_“You’re mine,”_ is all Natasha can say.


	8. Part VIII

It’s still the wee hours of the night, but Natasha lies close to you, nose-to-nose with her arm around you. Her fingers stroke your back softly. At some point in the night, you manage to put on the oversized shirt Natasha gives you, and she can’t help but find you look even lovelier in her clothes.

Natasha really likes it.

She can’t really sleep, so she spends her time watching you fall in and out of sleep. The tiny moments when you’re awake, you catch her still looking at you and you grin, before turning your face into the pillow a little more, closing your eyes back shut.

And when you sleep, she moves just a little closer, looking at you intently. She catches the tiny baby hairs around your face. 

She’s heartbroken. 

It physically hurts her, makes her stomach drop thinking how you endured the dark, the pain, and being by William’s side because you saw her. 

And even when you did finally meet her, how you had to control yourself from leaping to her arms, begging to be saved. 

You were so brave.

And Natasha loves you even more for that.

Natasha can hear Clint walking around outside, and she knows it’s time to go.

“It’s time, isn’t it?” You say, drawing her attention after Natasha let out a soft sigh.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling more rested, sleeping with Natasha by your side. 

Natasha leans up onto one elbow, hovering over you as she laces your fingers together briefly with her other hand.

“Yes, but I have Steve staying here to protect you,” she reassures you.

“You’re not having the captain come with you for this?” You wonder.

“I’m the captain of this mission, and I’ll be damned if he takes over,” Natasha grumbles slightly, and you laugh softly. 

Even though Natasha knows it’s time to go, she still takes a moment to stare at you just a little longer before she dips her head down to capture your lips. Her hands come up to cup your jaw slightly as she moves her lips against yours.

Natasha’s never going to get sick of this feeling, she just knows it. She just knows she’s going to continue to fall deeper and deeper into your, always wanting more, always wanting you close. 

Her spine shivers when Natasha feels you put your hand on her waist, pulling from the kiss with the sigh.

“I’ll come back for you,” she promises, and you nod.

“I know.”

“Because you’ve seen?” She asks, and you shake your head.

“Because I trust you.”

And Natasha bites her lip, briefly thinking about if she should skin William alive.

Natasha gets ready, putting her suit on, acutely aware of the fact you are staring at her.

And with one brief peck, she goes. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You lie in bed just a little longer before you decide to get up and change. You dig through Natasha’s wardrobe until you can finally settle on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

Walking out the door, you find Steve Rogers in the kitchen, brewing himself some coffee.

He looks surprised to see you.

“Would you like some?” He asks, probably believing he wouldn’t see you leave the room until the whole thing blew over. 

But he smiles that you came out.

You nod, not saying a word until he hands you a warm cup.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, your throat a little raspy.

It’s a little quiet, and you observe the man in front of you. You’ve seen brief things about him here and there.

He often visits an old woman, and you weren’t stupid. There’s a whole museum dedicated to this man’s life. 

You find Steve staring at you, and you feel a little self-conscious knowing you’re still bruised and bandaged up.

“Sorry you got stuck looking after me,” you apologize, “must suck missing out on all the action.”

Steve shrugs with a small smile.

“I think I’ve got the most important job of all.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I’m protecting the most important thing to Natasha. You.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The more time you spend with Steve, the more comfortable you become. He gets a few updates through their communication system, and it seems to be going well so far. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch, quietly chatting while Steve would occasionally look out the window if he heard something.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asks, and you nod.

“Why not try to reach Natasha the moment you ‘saw’ her? Why did you wait until this point?”

You twirl your cup lightly, moving the coffee in your cup around as you answer without looking at him.

“What do you think the future is?” You ask him instead.

Steve pauses for a moment, thinking about his answer.

“Something that will happen at a later time,” he decides.

You half-nod, moving your head side to side.

“I would say the future is made up of circumstances and decisions. Nothing is set in stone, yet some things are inevitable.” You look over to Steve, who is pensive about what you say.

“The thing is that I don’t know how to control my gift, even if I wanted to go to Natasha, I have no idea how I would even reach her. But even before that, it took a long time before William even let me into the house.” 

“Where did you stay before?” Steve asked.

“There’s a secret basement in his estate. In there, there’s a room that is nothing but a deep hole in the ground. Not even light can get in.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve clenches his jaw, and you shrug.

“It wasn’t all bad,” you try to reassure him. “I saw Natasha all the time.”

The soft smile on your face got Steve to smile as well. He was so happy for his friend. 

Steve’s device from Tony beeped as they got another update from Clint.

“Okay, Nat’s got a lock-on William. She’s on her way to capture him. Tony and Bruce are fighting their way to get the software to William’s computer before his program launches. Of course, I’m getting all the work of bringing down the goonies,” Clint grumbles and then checks out.

You laugh slightly with Steve. You drink all of your coffee, deciding that’s enough caffeine for one night.

Stretching your legs out from you, you get up, but it hits you incredibly fast. 

Your palm flies to your eye and fingers covering your forehead as you drop the cup, not even registering the sound of it shattering. You wobble, losing balance as Steve immediate stands up to catch you, supporting you up.

_“You think this is over?” William sneers at Natasha.  
_

_“Your plans being ruined and being captured usually means that. So, yes, I do think this is over.” Natasha tells him back, no emotion on her face.  
_

_“You know, there’s one thing my miserable father did teach me,” William says with a smirk, pulling out a device and in one hand and a gun in another.  
_

_“Take a look at this screen,” William tells her, and she can see it’s Bruce and Tony who’ve made it into his control room, working on canceling his program._

_“This button in my hand will release a deadly poison into the air. They’ll die within minutes,” William smiles, and when Natasha makes a move to step forward, he puts his thumb on the button threateningly._

_“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “one move, and I’ll kill them.”  
_

_He then points his gun at her._

_“You should’ve never come here,” he tells her before pulling the trigger–_

You snap out of the vision, breathing raggedly, and looking around frantically.

“Hey, hey,” Steve tries to relax you. “Are you alright? Did you see something?”

You immediately grab onto Steve’s biceps.

“We…we have to go. If we don’t go, they’ll die,” you tell him, panic in your eyes.

Steve looks like he debates what he should do, and you grab on tighter.

“Steve…I can’t live without her,” you tell him, and he sets his jaw in a straight line and nods.

He was already in his avenger suit, and you don’t really have time to change into anything, but he throws his helmet onto your head as he heads out onto his motorbike.

“Hang on,” Steve tells you, and you do exactly as he says before he rips off.

You’re praying. 

You’re hoping. 

You’re scared.

_‘Please…please let me make it in time.’_


	9. Part IX

Your heart is palpitating with the wind whipping around you as Steve revs his motorcycle, going 90 miles per hour. 

You try to hold onto Steve tighter, feeling like if you don’t, you’ll end up flying right off the backseat. It’s supposed to distract you. The wind, the noise, the cold, even the pain is supposed to take your mind away from the fact that if you’re too late, then Natasha might die.

Your mind tries to rationalize with you because she’s _Black Widow,_ and she’ll have different things up her sleeves. 

But what could she do?

So you focused on Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. You know that the Iron Man suit should be airtight. The poison can’t get through, but in your vision, you saw on the screen that he had his mask off as he worked on the computers. 

Even if you can get Steve to tell Tony to keep his mask on, what about Bruce?

Bruce would die if he inhaled any of that poison.

You’re formulating plans quickly inside your head. Possibility after possibility, wishing that you knew how to control your gift more because, at this point, this was just hoping for the best outcome.

“Hey, Steve?” You shout loudly through your helmet, licking your lips when Steve turns his head around briefly to show you he heard you.

“Can you get in touch with Natasha?” 

Steve releases one hand off the handle as he touches his earpiece. He calls her name a couple times, but then he puts his hand back on the handle.

“I’m not getting anything on her end. She might be out of range, or there might be interference where she is. We’ll know if she’s back,” He yells.

You sigh, hoping this plan works.

Steve slows, coming to a rough stop when you’re in front of your estate again.

Taking off your helmet, Steve helps you off, and you look at him.

“Can Tony hack into camera systems?” You ask, and Steve snorts.

“That would be like taking candy from a baby for him,” Steve tells you and you nod.

“Alright…can you ask him to do this?”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You had Steve park in the same blind spot area you smuggled Nat into that time you brought her home. 

Waiting until the camera turned, you pulled Steve past, opening the kitchen door.

You immediately start rummaging through the drawers.

“What are you looking for?” Steve asks, and you’re about to answer him before he suddenly bolts into you, pushing you to the ground, a loud gunshot ringing in your ears.

Pain rushes through your arms and legs as you haven’t quite healed yet. You groaned quietly and forced your head up to see what happened.

Steve jumps up, his shield forward to protect you, and the two of you see Evelyn standing there with a gun raised.

“Evelyn,” you breath, and she looks at you, eyes darting to Steve for just a moment.

“You’re a fool to return, miss,” Evelyn grouses, and you raise your brow at her.

“Let me guess, capture? Or kill on sight?” You ask, but Evelyn doesn’t react to it. It already tells you what you need to know because if you’re not useful to _him_ , then there’s no use for you at all.

You nudge Steve at his back because you still need to get to the drawer. He slowly inches up, and you follow. Evelyn follows your movements, but she can’t do much with Steve protecting you. 

You grab what you need from the drawer, and Steve draws his eyes to you without moving his head.

“Go,” he tells you, “I’ll catch up.”

You move, hearing more gunshots fired at you, but they easily bounce off of Steve’s shield. You glance at him, gratefully briefly before running off. Evelyn tries to take off after you, but Steve immediately blocks her way, forcing her back.

Evelyn steels herself with Steve doing that same.

“Captain America, huh. I’m a big fan.”

Steve grins.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You take off your shoes before running again, more relieved at the lack of sound your shoes were making. 

You open the door to the basement, fingers trembling slightly as you walk down. 

You haven’t been back down here since you were allowed up into the estates. There was no reason for you to go back down, but you needed to.

You needed to because Natasha might die if you didn’t.

Hand dragging along the bricked wall, you counted the bricks as walked until you reached 57.

Pressing the brick in, the door opened, and you looked into the room. You were early, it seemed. No one was in the room, but then you started to hear footsteps, and you quickly made your way in, running until you were behind a pillar, hiding as you slowed your breath.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha didn’t like the silence.

It was too quiet.

She had broken into William’s estate through a window, and when she jumped down, she realized she was in the basement. 

It was big, seemingly looked like a basement suite. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for at first, just checking every room until she was in the master bedroom of the basement. 

It would’ve been unnoticeable to anyone, but the bed was just slightly crooked. Probably no more than 3 degrees needed to be straight. 

It was such a plain bed for a master bedroom, but Natasha pushed the bed back in an attempt to make it straight.

Then she heard it.

The floor creaked unnaturally ever so softly.

Natasha moved the bed, staring at the floor door. 

A heavy feeling settled over Natasha. 

Everything in her body told her that she shouldn’t open it because whatever she would find in there would make her sick.

But Natasha opened it anyways.

It was dark peering in, but with some of the light outside, she could make out a staircase to go down. 

Her hands drifted to the wall, dragging against it as she walked down. Her fingers brushed against a light switch when she reached the bottom. When she turned it on, she noticed there wasn’t much space. There was the staircase, and about 5 feet across from it only had another door. There was nothing else. 

Natasha slowly walked forward, staring at the door. When she opened it, it was completely dark, the light hardly making any difference in the room, so she needed to use her own flashlight.

And there was nothing in the room. 

No furniture.

No windows.

Just a concrete floor.

A giant hole in the middle. 

Natasha clenches her jaw because she can’t stop hearing your words in her head.

She walks forward bravely until she’s at the edge, pointing her light down. The sight inside makes Natasha stiff.

It’s deep. 

Roughly around 150 feet and too wide for anyone to try to climb back up.

She can see some food trays at the bottom, a small pillow, and a blanket.

And Natasha knows.

You were kept a prisoner here. 

All alone in the dark until you had a vision of her.

But even then, you were still alone in the dark, replaying the visions of her, praying, hoping, _wishing_ for her until you were allowed out. 

Compromising your morals and ethics, enduring everything for Natasha to come.

It burned.

Natasha’s eyes drift to the side at the bottom, teeth clenching when she sees traces of dried blood.

She grips the gun in her hand a little tighter.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It’s happening. 

Faster than you can formulate any other plans in your head. 

“You think this is over?” William sneers at Natasha.

“Your plans being ruined and being captured usually means that. So, yes, I do think this is over.” Natasha tells him back, no emotion on her face.

“You know, there’s one thing my miserable father did teach me,” William says with a smirk, pulling out a device and in one hand and a gun in another.

“Take a look at this screen,” William tells her, and she can see it’s Bruce and Tony who’ve made it into his control room, working on canceling his program.

“This button in my hand will release a deadly poison into the air. They’ll die within minutes,” William smiles, and when Natasha makes a move to step forward, he puts his thumb on the button threateningly.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “one move, and I’ll kill them.”

You want to yell at Natasha to call his bluff, that it’s fine, but you might be making it worse.

But then he points his gun at her, and you only have a snapshot second to make a decision of what to do. You try to peer around, but Natasha seems to be rooted in place as she’s not willing to risk Tony and Bruce’s life. 

“You should’ve never come here,” he tells her before pulling the trigger–

You jump out from behind the pillar, rushing towards William as you push his chair over, disorienting him as he falls over on his side. The bullet fires, but completely misses Natasha.

Shock and horror enter Natasha’s eyes as she sees you, but you’re too busy trying to wrestle the gun out of his hand. She can’t shoot with you in the way. Despite being knocked over, William manages to keep a tight grip on both the button. You did manage to get his gun, but he uses his elbow, knocking it to your face. The shock and pain make you drop the gun, but further away than any three of you can reach. William uses that moment to grab you, wrapping his arm around your neck as he staggers to stand up.

William groans angrily, his thumb touching his lip as he sees the blood from when you hit his face from trying to get his gun. 

The blood drains from Natasha’s face as it’s become the worst possible scenario for her with him holding you hostage. 

“You actually came back,” William looks at you and sneers, “how foolish.”

You have one hand on his arm to stop him from squeezing harder and one hand straight down, your sleeve covering your arm.

“How idiotic of you,” William berates you. “Let me guess, you saw this happening and just couldn’t help but run to save _her_.”

His face distorts into disgust. Natasha is watching like a hawk, her gun up and steady.

William looks at her and rolls his eyes.

“Put your gun down, or I will press this button and kill everyone in that room,” he threatens. 

Natasha falters, but you shake your head at her, warranting William to tighten his hold around your neck.

“DROP THE FUCKING GUN,” William screams at Natasha, but she looks at you, and you’re still shaking your head as much as you can. 

_‘Trust me,’_ you mouth at her as best you can.

So, Natasha doesn’t drop the gun, and William explosively glares at her as he pushes the button. 

Natasha whips her eyes to the screen, but when moments pass and nothing happens, she looks back at him. 

William scares at the screen, confused and angry as he presses the button over and over again, but nothing happens. You can feel his grip loosening.

“What the hell,” he looks at the button but then snaps his head to you.

“What did you do?” He seethes at you, and you merely smile, causing him to tighten his grip around your neck.

“It’s a feedback loop,” you say before you reveal your hand with a fruit knife in it that you hid in your sleeve before stabbing him in his thigh.

William yelps, immediately releasing you as you tumble away, and Natasha immediately uses the opportunity to shoot William in the chest. 

There’s a moment of silence in the room as the bullet pierces him. He looks around at his chest, red seeping through his clothes as he falls onto his knees before his back.

He wasn’t dead, maybe Natasha shot him inches from where it would’ve been an instant death.

But he was certainly dying.

You crawl over to him, looking over his face as he took shaky breaths. He looks up at you.

“It’s over,” you whisper to him. It doesn’t really seem to register to him as he lifts his hand up, trying to touch your face. 

He doesn’t have the strength to make it.

“I…loved you…for…real, you know,” He breathes out shakily, slowly turning paler. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“No…” You tell him, “you don’t know how to love anything without ruining it.”

William merely stares up at you, mouth open as his trembles before the life fades from his eyes, and he lets out his last breath.

 _It’s finally over_ , you think, trying to get up but stumble right into Natasha’s arms as she rushes towards you.

Natasha pats you all over, trying to assess your injuries, but you hold her hand to stop her.

“I’m okay,” you tell her. 

Natasha’s lips tremble, but she doesn’t cry.

“You’re so _reckless_!” She chokes at you, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“But you’re alive…we’re both alive…” You tell her with a weak smirk, and Natasha rolls her eyes before leaning in to kiss you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Tony has the Quinjet ready by the time you come outside with Natasha supporting you with her arm around your waist.

You stand before everyone and can’t help but laugh that everyone’s at least supporting one bruise on their face.

“Ah, my little genius has made it out,” Tony says as he grins at you.

“ _Your_ genius?” Natasha scoffs.

“Uh, _yes_ , Nat. Otherwise, both me and puny banner would’ve-” Tony uses his hand to swipe around his neck, gesturing death as he makes a noise to accompany it.

Natasha scrunches her brows together as she recalled what happened.

“What did you do?” Natasha asks as she turns to you.

You grin softly.

_“Can Tony hack into camera systems?” You ask, and Steve snorts.  
_

_“That would be like taking candy from a baby for him,” Steve tells you._

_“Alright…can you ask him to do this?_ _Tell Tony to hack into the camera systems where he is discreetly. He needs to find the camera, which will be somewhere on the wall, and it can move. Ask him to make a feedback loop about a minute long of him and Bruce working to disengage the biotech. Make sure you tell him the feedback has to have it that his helmet his off.”_

_Steve pursed his lips and nodded, putting his finger to his earpiece before speaking quietly._

_“Okay, he’s asking why,” Steve turns to you.  
_

_“William is watching them, and he’s going to use the two of them as leverage when Natasha confronts him. The sprinklers in the room are filled with poisonous gas. If they inhale it, they’ll die. After the feedback loop is created, then Tony can keep his Iron Man helmet on if it has a gas filter, but Bruce can’t be in there in case.”  
_

_“Did you copy that?” Steve asks into his earpiece.  
_

_Steve nods to you, and you sigh._

Natasha merely shakes her head at you, and you know later on you’re going to get a lecture about danger again, but you don’t even care because she’s safe.

She leads you onto the Quinjet, letting you lay on her lap as she brushes your hair delicately during the flight. 

“What now?” Steve asks as he sits across from the two of you. 

Natasha merely shrugs. “I don’t know. A part of me wants to hide her away, where no one can find her. Not SHIELD, not anyone who knows about her gift and will want to use it.”

“You think SHIELD will want that?”

Natasha shrugs again. “She can see the future, Steve. Do you know how incredibly useful that gift is? Without her, this mission would’ve been a bust. This mission might’ve not even _existed_ without her. Sure, she can’t control it now, but maybe with research and practice, she can. But I don’t want to put her through that as if she’s some…some _lab rat_.”

Natasha looks down at your sleeping face, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. 

“I just want her to be happy. She deserves to be happy.”

“We’ll find a way,” Steve tells Natasha reassuringly, but his teammate merely half-smiles at him.

The rest of the ride home is quiet as everyone is trying to rest. When the Quinjet lands in SHIELD’s headquarters, Natasha briefly thinks about grabbing you and running off before anyone can see you, but when she feels your hand brush against hers as you wake up, she can only smile as you press a kiss to the corner of her lips. 

The door opens to the ground as Natasha helps you up to walk out. She already sees Fury and Maria standing there to greet everyone. 

They look at you, and Natasha feels tense, but you pat her arm to reassure her.

Maria walks up to you, and before anything can happen, you’re in handcuffs.

Shock appears on the Avenger’s faces as they look at the handcuffs on your wrist.

“What the _hell_ ,” Natasha seethes.


	10. Part X

Natasha is torn.

She wants to make a scene, immediately steal you away and get you out of handcuffs.

But she knows better. 

And so, she must hold herself still. 

Everyone is currently sitting in a conference room, and Maria knows not to test Natasha’s limit and patience.

So, she sits you next to Natasha while she sits on the other side. Fury sits at the head of the table, staring at you, and you’re unsure how to read his expression. 

But you know why this has happened.

“What is the meaning of this?” Natasha asks, mouth in a hard line as she looks at Fury. “Why is she in handcuffs?”

“Because she’s a criminal,” Fury says simply. 

“She saved us all!” Natasha argued back.

“She abetted a criminal,” Fury says, not taking his eyes off of you. “Her guidance has caused the suffering of many, a significant amount of money laundering, and even death.”

“She had no choice,” Natasha hissed.

“Oh, she had many choices,” Fury turned to look at Natasha, “She could’ve found a way to contact us, contact any authority, she even could’ve tried to run away over and over again. But she didn’t.”

Fury looks back at you, “Isn’t that right?”

Natasha is about to say something else because the idea that you would be locked away, doing time for things you had no choice to do is ludicrous, but bring your hands atop hers, giving her a soft smile of reassurance.

“It’s true, I could’ve tried to contact someone at any time or ran away when I was finally allowed some freedom,” you admit.

“Then, why didn’t you?” Clint asked, frowning.

“Because there’s no guarantee that would’ve been the end of William,” you say softly. “What are you going to arrest him on? He hasn’t done anything at that point yet. Will you arrest him on the idea he might do something? You might as well arrest everyone in the world then.”

“We have your visions,” Steve jumps in, and you smile lightly at him.

“And what if I were lying?” You question. “How would you be certain that I’m telling the truth, that what I see is true? I can’t control my gift. I can’t conjure you up a vision on the spot. You would still have to wait until something I say comes true.”

“That’s not your job to figure out the Avenger’s job of bringing a villain down,” Fury tells you, but you turn your head and raise your eyebrow at him.

“It is my job if I’m the one who has to get directly affected,” you shoot back at him.

“Yet, in the end, your actions brought us all here,” Fury smirked.

Natasha’s about to stand up, but you hold her arm through your handcuffs, looking at her again. Her eyes search yours, only finding that you’re pleading her to trust you once more.

So she purses her lips, sitting down.

You turn your head back to Fury. “Let’s just cut down to the chase. In return for absolving me of my crimes, I will agree to research and training my gift, and aide the Avengers—”

“No—” Natasha tries to interrupt, but you pat her hand.

“In a consultant capacity,” you finish.

It’s silent as everyone processes what you’ve said. 

It would be essentially in the same position as Tony. You wouldn’t have to go on missions, or really have to abide by the same rules as SHIELD.

Nick Fury quirks his lips at you.

“Is that your deal?” He asks you in his deep voice.

“It’s the only deal you will agree to.”

Fury continues to look at you before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Alright,” he says, standing up, motioning his hands to Maria to let you out of your handcuffs. “Deal.”

When all in said and done, you stand up with Natasha. Everyone begins to leave the room.

Clint and Bruce pat you gently on the shoulder as they leave with a smile.

“If you ever decide you need a better income, come work for me,” Tony tells you with his signature smirk, and you smile back at him.

“As what?” You tilt your head.

“Well,” Tony hums, “I could always use more paintings in my building. Peppers says my decor is shit.”

You laugh, and Tony smiles at you once more.

“See you around, third eye,” He chuckles at his own nickname that causes Natasha to roll her eyes.

Steve is the last to leave, standing before you with his hands behind his back and a slight curve in his eyebrow.

“Did you know that you would be arrested?” He asks finally.

You lick your lips.

“What have I told you about the future?” You say, and Steve just shakes his head with a smile, leaning down to give you a gentle hug before leaving. 

Once everyone is gone from the room, Natasha pulls you into her embrace, hand starting at the lower dip of your back before trailing its way up to the base of your neck.

“You had me wrapped around your finger right from the beginning, didn’t you?” Natasha whispers against the crook of your ear.

“Just as much as you had me around yours,” you say in return.

It isn’t long before Natasha finds your lips with her own, and the soft sigh that leaves your mouth is a sound that Natasha finds she treasures.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You quickly move into the Avengers’ Tower on Natasha’s floor. At first, Natasha wanted to find her own place where she could live with you, but you argued it’s better to be surrounded by family. 

The tower was secure, and it’s nice to be somewhere filled with people for a change.

You settled in quite nicely, and you like that you can see so much New York outside from your room with Natasha.

It was lively with how you painted drawings on the wall with Natasha watching.

You’ve seen to have fallen into a nice routine so far. Natasha has more free time with no missions currently.

You wake around 9AM and sneak out of bed quietly to make coffee for Natasha.

You think it’s adorable that Natasha is not a morning person at all if she doesn’t have to be. She’ll stay in bed until 2PM if you let her.

You’re currently sitting in the living room watching TV. On the news station, you see that David has used his money to buy out William’s company. When the news came to light, his stocks dropped and obviously, his company tanked. David saved it by buying it and everyone innocent who worked there.

_“It is my promise that I will rebuild and restore honor to this company. With our rebranding, I will show the world the true legacy the previous late CEO, William’s father, wanted to bring to this world…”_

You smiled. You were sure that David would do what he promised. 

You get late lunch with Steve and trade drawings that you’ve been working on. He’s easy to be around, and you’re glad that he’s also someone that Natasha trusts. 

All while living your new life, you also dedicate time to sit with researchers that Maria and Tony set out for you to help you with your gift.

It’s slow going. For many days there wasn’t much to work with, but as time went on, more data was compiled, and you’re beginning to understand more of yourself and your gift. Here and there, you can help people on their missions when the visions pop into your head, and for once, you like that you’re using it to save lives in an honest way. In the small moments, there’s no scheming.

“So, what’s the plan now, third eye?” Tony asks you, and you smile.

“I’m going to head back to my room. Natasha will probably wake within an hour.”

“She’s still sleeping? Jeeze, it’s like 1PM now,” Tony rolls his eyes in a joking manner, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I don’t have the heart to wake her. she’s too cute.”

“I don’t know if the word ‘cute’ is what I would describe Natasha.”

“Well, I’m describing her, not you,” you smirk before sighing. “Alright, Tin Man, I’m going to go.”

You walk off, and you hear Tony mumbling, “Tin Man?” before laughing.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Mornings don’t settle well. 

Natasha doesn’t understand why her body can’t just come to love the mornings. It would just make everything easier.

But she can smell coffee, and her heart warms, knowing you’ve brewed a fresh batch for her. She gets up groggily, pressing her palm to her eye in hopes of pushing the sleep away before running her fingers through her hair. 

Getting out of bed, Natasha makes her way out to the living room quietly because she catches the sight of your back as you paint. She leans against the wall, just taking in the blotches of paint on your fingers and forearms, smiling because Natasha just can’t explain how the sight makes her feel. She loves seeing you with your messy bun. 

Her eyes travel down to the over-sized dress shirt you have on and can’t help but grin. When the two of you first moved in, Natasha insisted on buying you stacks and stacks of shirts for your painting activities. It made you giggle when you thought back to when Natasha was jealous of the thought you were wearing someone else’s clothes. 

Once Natasha feels that she’s soaked you in enough, she walks forward to make her presence known, pouring herself some coffee before heading over to you.

You look at your painting, squinting a little bit before smiling as you put your brush and palette down. Turning to face Natasha as you’re seated, the other girl pulls you into a hug, her fingers massaging the back of your neck before she dips down and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re gonna get paint on yourself, Nat,” you mumble into her body. 

“And it will be a wonderful addition,” Natasha smiles softly. 

“What were you painting? You’ve been working on this painting since I met you the first time I saw you in the studio.” Natasha asks, but then she looks, and she _sees._

It’s her.

There are vibrant colors everywhere, shades of herself that Natasha would’ve never believed herself to be. The detail you put in her eyes gave an idea to Natasha was precisely you saw in the dark when you had a vision of her. 

Natasha is speechless, overwhelmed about how you see her, but she is so very in love with you. 

“I told you,” you whisper as you stand up slowly, your lips brushing against her exposed collarbone. “You’re the most beautiful color to ever exist.”

Natasha puts her coffee down on the table stand, her hands sliding against your jaw as she cups your face. Her nose drags across your cheek before it brushes against your lips. 

This is everything, Natasha thinks. 

You’re all healed up. Some things have faded into scars, but Natasha loves it because it means you’ve survived. 

Her fingers are slightly tangled through the baby hairs of the back of your head as Natasha pulls you closer to her.

Her lips press to yours, first chaste and quick, but the taste of you quickly draws her in, and before you know it, you’re in the midst of long, languid kisses that make your head spin. Natasha leads you to the bedroom, her hands traveling down the sides of your neck. One hand dips down the front, palm sliding across your bare collarbone as her other hand unbuttons your shirt.

******

The shirt slides off your shoulders, hitting the ground and forgotten as you back yourself onto the bed, slowly falling backward onto the bed with Natasha cover your body with her own.

Your nipples harden feeling Natasha’s silk top rub against your naked chest. Her lips descend on your throat, and you give out a throaty moan that your girlfriend just appreciates like it’s music.

Your stomach coils anticipatingly when Natasha’s lip make their way lower, her hands taking your soft mounds and squeezes them appreciatively. Your hips grind into her thigh that’s between your legs, and you feel Natasha smirk against your skin.

“Eager?” She teases.

“Only as much as you,” you breathily say back, but your hands are trailing down her sides until you reach the hem of her silk top. Fingers tread underneath until your touching smooth skin, adoring the goosebumps that follow where you touch. 

Suddenly, Natasha is holding you close, cradling you to her as if you’re the most precious thing to have ever existed. 

“I’ve waited for this for so long,” she admits, and you hum in agreement because you feel a burn in the back of your throat.

Perhaps Natasha may never understand how much of you revolves around her, but your heart flutters, knowing that she loves you too.

“Touch me,” you rasp, dragging her hand to cup your chest. Natasha presses open-mouthed kisses between the valley of your breasts, trailing lower with renewed determination. 

Her tongue dips out, tasting your navel, and you feel the heat pool between your legs with the desire for Natasha’s love. Her blunt fingernails drag down your body, and you suddenly feel her breath at your panties. Her fingers hook around the lacy garment, dragging them until they become forgotten on the floor as well. 

You’re well-content to let Natasha take the lead this time, but there are things you won’t let her deprive you of, and that’s undressing her too. You sit up, capturing her lips, deepening the kiss as you button her shirt with haste. Natasha lets her arms limp at her sides as you push the clothing off her shoulders and down her arms, letting them fall to the bed.

Lowering you until your back hits the mattress, her gentle hands deftly feels every muscle on your back, and you let out a moan because Natasha’s mouth feels even better on your breast. Her tongue traces a hot circle against your stiff nipple before her mouth closes in on it. 

And when Natasha settles between your legs, your legs can’t help but wrap around her waist. The first grind Natasha rocks against your core have you screwing your eyes closed in pleasure, your hips rocking back with intent as you moan again. 

Natasha gasps your name, stilling her hips much to your protest. 

“Slowly,” Natasha rasps, “I want to feel all of you.”

You take a shaky breath, swept up again when she kisses you, her tongue licking your bottom lip, and tastes you.

Her fingers travel to your legs, and she seems to linger, pulling at your thighs, grasping your calves, and then traveling up and spreading you a little wider.

Your hips roll for contact, and Natasha seems to find a new intent, and nothing feels slow anymore.

Her fingers dip into your wet folds, passing over your clit before pressing firmly on the nub, and you can’t help but cry out by how good it feels. 

Natasha watches you with rapt. You’re so honest with your pleasure, letting it show all over your face and the way your body arches off the bed. Her heart thuds as her fingers slide deeper, begging for entrance, and you spread your legs further for her. 

Natasha’s fingers press and curl, drawing favorable responses out of you, licking her lips when you reach out to grab her sides as you match your hips to the rhythm of her fingers. 

Colors are passing through your head again. The fierce red of Natasha’s hair, the deep, vibrant green of her eyes, and blue for the ocean you feel like you’re riding through.

And the building pressure in your lower belly pools and coils until Natasha pushes you off the edge, and you scream her name.

Opening you’re eyes, you look into your heaven, the tender green of Natasha’s eyes, and you know you’ll never be the same.

Between the ecstasy and the aftershocks of pleasure that ripples through your body, pulsing around the fingers still in you, you feel the shaking breath of Natasha against your neck.

“I love you,” she says against your skin, slightly salty from the sweat you’ve built up. 

Your fingers trace invisible lines on her back as you slowly come back down.

“I love you, too,” you murmur, drawing Natasha from her hiding place to give her a deep kiss. 

Your fingers are aching to touch her. 

You need to feel her.

But the taste of you has Natasha still wanting more.

“I need to taste you,” she says against your lips. Your breath catches as Natasha dips her head and bites your shoulder gently, her hands already trailing down again, except this time her head follows.

“Please tell me you plan to let me reciprocate you today,” you husk, and Natasha chuckles, and you feel the rumble.

“Eventually,” Natasha concedes, finally reaching her destination. 

“But as I said,” a hot tongue glazing over the oversensitive flesh, “slowly. We have all the time in the world.”

A moan escapes your throat. 

And you pray that the world won’t end anytime soon.

******

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It’s only weeks before the bliss of being home with nothing to do ends with Natasha, and somehow, the world is in peril again.

You’re painting in the living room again while Natasha is zipping up her catsuit and also going over her equipment to ensure she has it all. Once she’s sure she’s got everything, she comes to your side and presses a kiss to your head.

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll text if I can,” she says against your hair, breathing your scent to remember it as she knows it won’t see you for a while.

Natasha is about to leave, but you jump up to grab something.

“Wait!” You call after her, running to your shared bedroom and then coming back out to give her something.

Natasha offers her hand, and you drop the items into her hand.

“Hair ties?” Natasha confusedly looks at them before looking at you.

You hum, “Yeah, you can go now.”

“Are you going to tell me what it’s for?” Natasha raises her brow.

You grin, “No, you’ll find out.”

Natasha merely shakes her head with a small smile, kissing you one last time before she goes off.

“Try not to get any paint on the wall this time,” Natasha reminds you with a look.

You nod dutifully, “I will do my very best, but you can’t lie and say you didn’t like the last painting.”

Natasha is really pushing it on time, but she just loves the little banters you have.

It’s blissful.

Natasha brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face as she gazes in your eyes. She’s probably late, but she doesn’t care.

“I will always love whatever you paint, I love the color of you.”


End file.
